


To fight monsters, we created monsters of our own.

by RussianSunflower3



Series: Sunflower's HanaIwa week [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Jeagers, Kaiju, M/M, Multi, Pacific Rim AU, Slow Build, Will probably end up as OT4
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-08 15:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7763326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianSunflower3/pseuds/RussianSunflower3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Kaiju had emerged from the ocean, Iwaizumi had realised with a sense of dread that it was nothing like he imagined. <br/>It's a battle for survival, it's an on-going trauma and struggle, it's something that terrifies and leaves you shaking. It's hard to think that anybody would join the Japanese Pacific Defence Corps.</p>
<p>But where does Iwaizumi end up? <br/>With friends like his, he really should have known.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Breach.

Iwaizumi had always been passionate about monsters and Kaiju and giant beasts. He wanted to watch movies with them in all the time, he wanted to read about the scientific side of these fictional creations, he sometimes wished he could _see_ one. 

But not like this. 

Never like this.

When Kaiju had emerged from the ocean, Iwaizumi had realised with a sense of dread that it was nothing like he imagined. It wasn’t just structural damage and awesome roaring from a magnificent beast. It was lives lost, survivors traumatised and deafened, and a living being that was not capable of co-existence. 

Kaiju had emerged from the ocean seven times, each rising up from just beyond the coastline and wrecking tragedy as far inland as they could before they were felled by the military. The first Kaiju had emerged just after Iwaizumi’s 14th birthday. Kahului in Hawaii had been erased to the ground, and it took three days for the US military to bring the beast down. 3 days, and half of all life on Maui. It had been thought to be a one off. Like a Godzilla movie, it was the kind of tragedy that only happened once. 

Except it didn’t. Yangon in Myanmar. Port Moresby in Papua New Guinea. Los Angeles in the USA. Nha Trang in Vietnam.

By the time Iwaizumi reached high school, he no longer admired Kaiju and he most _definitely_ never wanted to see one. The Kaiju attacks grew more rapid. They got scarily close to Japan. Tianjin in China was levelled to the ground. An attack on Incheon in South Korea only ended when North Korea fired their atomic weapons at it, killing millions and spreading radiation. The act was frowned upon, but ultimately, the Kaiju had been destroyed and it had saved more lives than it ended. 

After that, it was decided borders would be opened. Hostilities and wars would be dropped. The globe had to work together to find a way to fight back. Iwaizumi watched the news channels with interest and hesitation at every progressed development. So far, a Kaiju had never appeared from the Atlantic, and it was decided that Europe was the safest place for construction. Suddenly, everything went... Quiet. There was no more news released, no more developments. Kaiju seemed to have stopped. For now.

Iwaizumi went into his third year at Aobajosai, pretending like things had never happened and it would never happen again. Like it was a nightmare he’d had after too many monster movies, or a story he’d written long ago. Kaiju were no longer on the radar, so Iwaizumi could pretend it had never happened. He could focus on volleyball and friendships and his education. 

The same year, Jaeger Tech was presented to the world. Contractors and technology from around the globe had united in France to produce seventeen Jaegers – referred to as Mach 1, so it was presumed there would be more created - that would be distributed to the pan-pacific cities. Major cities that lay along coastlines had been building up for the event, refuges called Shatterdomes that could hold up to five Jaegers each and thousands of people in residency. The Shatterdome in Tokyo received three Jaegers. It would also be protecting the Korean coastline, the Russian Peninsula, and if things were _really_ bad, it would be sending Jaeger as backup/support in the Yellow Sea area.

Kibō was their hope. It was green-chrome in colour and almost as wide as it was tall. The shoulder struts were huge, as were the ‘hips’, but it wasn’t thickly shielded which allowed it to move considerably fast, for the current Jaegers. 

Mirai was their future. It was a massive bulk of a Jaeger, designed for defence instead of offence, heavy and slow-moving, but shielded enough to take multiple hits. Mirai was the type of Jaeger that could end a battle in one move, as long as it didn’t miss.

Shōri stood for victory. It was the exact medium between Kibō and Mirai. It wasn’t lithe, but it could dodge an attack. It wasn’t bulked out to the max, but it could take a couple of hits. Shōri was the frontline of the Japanese Pacific Defence Corps. 

As quickly as things about Jaegers and Kaiju had gone quiet, they burst into full bustle once more. Recruitment posters appeared in shops, high schools, parks, offices, and streets. They wanted engineers, mechanics, scientists, medics, Jaeger pilots, pilot assistance and rookies they could train to fit into one of the groups. Some people were eager to sign up, for their chance to become a hero and save the world. Others dwelled on rumours they had heard – that the Jaegers were rushed production and had many flaws, that people had died during the testing, that there was no way they were strong enough.

The chance to test the Jaegers came all too soon. Lima - Peru, witnessed the first Kaiju since Korea. Zorro Rojo was dispatched from the Lima Shatterdome. 

Two hours later, it returned triumphant. 400 were dead, but that was nothing compared to the devastation the world had first faced from the attack. The dead were mourned, the battle memorialised, and everything moved on. More Kaiju emerged from what was designated as ‘The Breach’, but each time, they were beaten down before they could traverse more than one city. Sometimes, they didn’t even make the coastline. 

The Jaeger had become effective weapons. Their pilots became heroes. Kaiju became propaganda and toys and people everywhere celebrated. More ordinary citizens signed up for their role in the fight against these deep sea alien invaders, especially when it was announced that production lines were halfway through developing the Mach 2 Jaegers.

Everything seemed... Fine. It was a minor inconvenience when The Breach expanded and Kaiju rose from the depths. They were fought back down as soon as possible. What the media failed to report was that battles were taking longer. Kaiju were growing stronger. Jaegers were only as strong as their pilots, and many casualties were swept under the rug, cheap and questionable medicine administered as a quick fix before the pilots appeared on talk shows or interviews. They were not allowed to talk of their struggles. They were forbidden from mentioning the growing strength of the Kaiju, out of fear of causing mass hysteria. 

At some point, something had to give. It just happened to be the Japanese Defence Corps that were first on the line.


	2. For my family.

2AM. Iwaizumi bolted up from his bed as the ground shook and an alarm blared. There was a Kaiju that had made landfall and it was heading for Aobajosai. The rules and evacuation plans in place said to leave immediately via marked evacuation routes and return when the area was safe. No Kaiju would make it this far inland, they said. It would be defeated miles from the town, they said. 

Iwaizumi didn’t think the government had thought things through thoroughly. He could feel the vibrations of what he concluded were footsteps. He could hear the deafening screech and roar of the Kaiju, followed by the sounds of battle. Explosions were rife, and as he leaned out the window, he could see the trail of Kaiju Blue dripping down from a shadowy figure in the distance. It wasn’t far from his home at all. He shielded his face as there was a fiery blast from Shōri’s cannon, able to feel the heat even from this distance. 

Squinting through the cloud of steam and debris, his eyes widened in horror and he gasped with a mix of awe and fear. The Kaiju was- It was _huge_!!! It almost was like looking up at Godzilla, but far more intimidating than Iwaizumi could ever had imagined. It didn’t look like a dragon or a dinosaur at all. 

It was beastly and reptilian up to the waist, possessing four arms with claws almost as long as its forearm, a gullet under the chin that looked made of stone and a large protrusion of the top of its head, like a vertical _sword_ , but thicker and stronger. There was no jaw, Kaiju Blue dripping from where the lower jaw had obviously been ripped off by the Jaeger, but on the side of its head were scaled flaps that looked like fins, except rigid solid and veined with cyan. Blades stuck out from its back, curving over the shoulders, which the Kaiju moved independently, stabbing into the centre of Mirai. The Jaeger groaned and shuddered as it collapsed, breaking apart as a shadow illuminated by Kaiju Blue. Mirai, their _future_ , was gone, and the pilots defeated by a monster. 

“Hajime! Hurry, we have to leave!” He turned back to his mother with pale and shocked features and she choked back a sob because she knew her son – her 17 year old son, still a _child_ \- had seen things he never should have. Things that would linger in nightmares and burden him for the rest of his life. The house shook once more, anything loose shattering on the floorboards and the structure beginning to lean and crumble. 

“Hajime, please! It’s not safe!” Shaken out of his stupor by his mothers desperation, Iwaizumi grabbed a packed bag he had by the side of his bed, filled with important things and precious survival items, slinging it on over his back and following his mother out the house. Barefoot and in pyjamas, they joined the streets where other citizens were fleeing from the Kaiju, most in the same state of dress. 

Iwaizumi dared to look over his shoulder. Fires had broken out in the residential area around the Kaiju, and the Kaiju held two Jaeger in hands. Shōri and Kibō were nothing more than toys to the beast, who ripped them apart with its two other hands and scattered the mechanical corpses by throwing them in a circular motion. Some of the debris rained down on the fleeing crowd, but Iwaizumi had learnt his lesson about _looking_ and kept his eyes to the pavement. 

Heavy footsteps. Getting louder, getting closer. The Kaiju was leaping towards them, bounding over houses and trampling the stragglers underfoot as it headed for the heart of the crowd. All around him were screams, of the frightened, the dying, and those separated from their family and friends in the chaos. 

_Friends._

He tugs his mother into a side alley without warning, almost jolting her off balance as his eyes scan the crowd going past in hopes of spotting someone he knows. Deaf to his mother repeatedly asking for them to go again, his observational tactic pays off.

“Hanamaki! Matsukawa!” The two had been in the midst of a sleepover when the attack begun, and found Hanamaki’s family had run out without waiting for the two boys. To compensate, they stuck close together until they could find someone else they knew. Matsukawa hears Iwaizumi over the noise and tugs Hanamaki’s wrist to let him know. They weave their way through the thinning crowd and over to Iwaizumi. 

Cramped into the small alley, there isn’t time for them to even say ‘hello’ before a shockwave blows them further down the alley as a giant foot, scaled and hairy crashes in the street where they had been seconds ago. The Kaiju passes them. Iwaizumi’s mother watches in horror as people are crushed underfoot, and has to turn away to vomit before she moves to block the view, tugging all three boys into her arms and flesh to prevent them from seeing, if they haven’t already.

“Don’t look. D-Don’t look.” None of them protest. They heard the screams and cries silenced with a sickening crunch and squelch. They don’t _need_ to look to know what has happened. Huddled together, three terrified high school boys and an equally terrified mother. Iwaizumi can feel himself shaking. He can feel Hanamaki shaking harder, shoulders juddering with silent tears. Matsukawa is holding it in, but Iwaizumi can hear how his breath hitches even though he rubs their backs in a poor attempt to provide comfort.

He has his mother. But both of them have no idea where their families are. Someone else is also missing. Oikawa. Iwaizumi’s best friend, and a solid member of their quartet, is absent from the alleyway. Awake and plagued by worry, Iwaizumi peels away from the group around dawn. He steels himself to travel down the road paved with broken bodies until he stands up and-

The street is empty. There are no bodies. The only telltale sign that last night happened is the crumbling buildings, and the off-colour pavement, stained with the blood of hundreds. Iwaizumi swallows down a lump in his throat because he knows that colour will never be entirely removed. The once-pristine cobblestone will forever carry a tinge of russet and sienna. But the area has been cleared and it has been washed. Which means... The government has already reacted to the disaster and begun clearing up. It also means that if Oikawa were among the dead – Iwaizumi retches at the thought – there would be no body left for him to identify. 

“Iwaizumi...?” Hanamaki’s soft whisper captured his attention and he tore his gaze away from the bloodstained pavements. Hanamaki wriggled out of the protective hold, leaving Matsukawa alone in the arms of Iwaizumi’s mother. He jogged over to Iwaizumi’s side, taking in the same cleared streets with a scarily rapid understanding as he lay a hand on Iwaizumi’s shoulder.

“We’ll find him. Don’t worry.”

“Will we, though?” Hanamaki sucks in a sharp intake of breath at the bitter tone, trailing his fingers down Iwaizumi’s arm until they slide into his hand, holding it supportively but not too tightly. Iwaizumi could easily snatch his own hand away, but instead, he squeezes back. Glancing over his shoulder, he sees that his mother and Matsukawa are still sleeping soundly.

“... Hanamaki?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you look after them? I- I have to go and see if Oikawa is- is still at h-home.” His voice wavers as he thinks of the inferno that he witnessed tearing through the residential area at the feet of the Kaiju. Hanamaki doesn’t let go of his hand, taking the first step out into the street and looking around warily, as if expecting the Kaiju to come roaring back at any second, from a hidden direction. Once he determines it’s all clear, he tugs on Iwaizumi’s hand and leads him out into the centre of the street. 

Iwaizumi understands. There’s something about sticking together that makes things feel easier, and safety in numbers is certainly the way to go about until they feel... Like they’re out of harm's way. He doesn’t protest Hanamaki being at his side, quickly navigating the desolate streets towards where Oikawa’s home would be. Even in this unrecognisable and charred landscape, he knows the way by practice and instinct alone. His pyjama pants keep catching on protruding pieces of wood or metal, the few scraps that escaped the heat of the blaze. Hanamaki was more careful, considering he was only wearing boxer shorts. At any other time, it would have been embarrassing to be walking around in public in this state of dress, but the entire area was in shambles, and it was easily excusable.

“There’s something up ahead.” A low-toned rumbling broke through the silence, and Iwaizumi let go of Hanamaki’s hand to scramble forwards over the remains of what was once a house. Climbed atop the pile of debris, he gasped. Hanamaki slowly followed up, stepping carefully to avoid scrapes or cuts that could be easily infected.

“There’s vehicles! I think- I think we’ve stumbled upon a rescue operation!” 

“Then quickly, let’s go back and get Matsukawa and your mum.” But as Hanamaki tugged at Iwaizumi’s sleeve, the former Ace whirled around on him with a ferocious expression; lips pulled into a snarl and eyes burning with a mixture of determination and heated concern.

“I’m not going back until I find Oikawa! He’s my best friend! You wouldn’t leave Matsukawa all alone out there, would you?!” Pursing his lips into a thin, stern line, Hanamaki turns around and starts to head back. If Iwaizumi wants to be reckless, then so be it. He’d regret it later, if something happened to his only remaining family. He looks over his shoulder just in time to see Iwaizumi skidding down the ruins of the house, disappearing from view on the other side.

He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and swiftly jogs back to where Matsukawa and Iwaizumi’s mother are resting. As he enters the alleyway, Matsukawa seems to be just waking up, rubbing at his eyes with the backs of his hands, mouth stretched in a wide yawn. 

“Morning sunshine~.”

“Urgh... I had the worst dream... We had to leave quickly ‘cus there was a Kaiju and-...” His usually droopy eyes widen as he surveys his surroundings with growing realisation and trepidation. Lastly, they fall upon Hanamaki; standing in the entranceway to the alley with his head hung low and bitter sorrow painting his expression.

“It wasn’t a dream, Mattsun.” 

“Holy shit...” He runs a stressed and shaking hand through his curly, greasy hair, knotted with smoke and splinters of wreckage that fell upon them as they ran with the crowds through the street. It dawns on him that if Iwaizumi had not called them into the alleyway in that exact second, they would be dead right now. He goes to thank Iwaizumi before noticing that he’s not there.

“Oi... Where’s Iwaizumi?”

“Gone to find Oikawa. We think we found a rescue effort and I told him to come back here first, but...” Hanamaki sighs, hands on his hips. It’s annoying, not having pockets to shove his hands into. He _would_ put them down his boxers, if he had another layer underneath. 

“I’m guessing he went off on his own?”

“Yep. He’s stubborn as ever.” 

“We catching up?”

“We don’t have a choice.” Gently, Matsukawa shakes Iwaizumi’s mother awake, updating her as Hanamaki anxiously hovers at the mouth of the alleyway, purposely lingering on the edge of the street. The line between bloodstain and clear cobblestone is visible, and his heels teeter just before the border. He keeps leaning back, looking for any sign of Iwaizumi coming back with Oikawa dragged behind him. Knowing Oikawa, he probably had his headphones on, sat at his laptop and oblivious to the chaos around him. If the four walls of the room remained, Oikawa would probably still be sat there, wondering why he was having connectivity problems.

“Alright, we’re ready to go. Lead the way, Makki.” With a sense of duty, Hanamaki shows them the direction Iwaizumi disappeared in, the two teenagers helping his mother up the debris of the house, and all three looked over the scorched wasteland left in the Kaiju’s wake with nothing less than terror-induced awe and disbelief. 

There-... There was _no way_ there would be four walls left standing. Hanamaki wasn’t even sure if there was _**half**_ a wall left standing. Miraculously, in the centre of it all, there appeared to be a table in one piece, the area around it depressed by a great weight. A Kaiju footprint, narrowly missing the table by inches as it slipped between the toes. Cars with blue flashing lights were off in the distance, but it was the partially-scorched table that stole all the attention.

“Isn’t that...? That’s where Tooru’s home would be!” Iwaizumi’s mother dashed forwards, leaping over fallen beams and narrowly dodging protruding metal bars. Matsukawa gave a heavy sigh as he and Hanamaki started to carefully climb down.

“What is it with Iwaizumi’s and recklessly running?”

“Beats me. Must be something to do with superior athleticism.” The two share an exasperated look before they trek after the young woman who has no trouble walking barefoot on a ground that still glowed with embers. Hanamaki, on the other hand, was very sensitive and constantly hopping from one foot to the other with whines at twinge of burning.

“Mattsun, carry me.”

“Hell no. If I step on a nail or something, I’ve already got my own weight pushing down on it. I don’t need to worry about your weight atop that as well.” Hanamaki visualises a nail going into the sole of his foot with a shudder and wince. It is _not_ a nice imagery, for someone who can’t even stand cartoon gore. 

“I’m kinkshaming.”

“... Why are you like this? We’re literally in the middle of devastation and you’re _memeing_?”

“People deal with things in their own way. Oikawa goes missing, Iwaizumi goes crazy, you bottle up, and I quote things from the internet. By the way... What’s memeing?” Matsukawa stares at Hanamaki blandly. 

“I’m going to pretend you never said that.”

“Hey, what- No, I’m serious! Matsukawa Issei, you get back here right now and explain! Stop running away from meeee!” Matsukawa would have listened, but that’s when he spots something familiar moving about the flashing lights up ahead, going from vehicle to vehicle. He can tell it’s Iwaizumi from the broadness of the shoulders, and desperation in the way he bounces between emergency vehicles like a mad man on a mission. He picks the pace up into a jog, leaving Hanamaki to follow in his wake.

“Mattsun, what-?”

“I see Iwaizumi. And I’m worried he might get into trouble.” Hanamaki instantly sobers up, all humour gone from the situation. Truth be told, he’s a little more than worried about Iwaizumi. He’s never seen him this frazzled before, priorities distorted and warped by the disaster they’ve been thrown into. It’s likely that Iwaizumi is having a major meltdown, struggling to accept and adapt to the massive change this _devastation_ brings forth. His best friend is missing, his house is destroyed, and it’s obvious from the haunted look in his eyes that he’s _seen_ things. Hanamaki wonders if he were accidentally looking when the Kaiju’s foot mangled the fleeing crowds in the street.

It doesn’t take them long to get over to the emergency vehicles – ambulances, fire engines, and vehicles designed for clearing the streets – and they catch up to Iwaizumi as he paces from one ambulance to the next. Most of them are being loaded with bodies. Hanamaki hopes Oikawa is not one of them.

“Pl-Please, if you’ve seen him, I need to know!” Iwaizumi is holding a photograph, something he must have packed into his drawstring bag that he has slung over one shoulder. It’s a picture taken of the third years on Iwaizumi’s birthday last year, Oikawa right next to him and throwing a peace sign up at the camera with a cheeky grin. The ambulance driver shakes his head with an apology and Iwaizumi moves onto the next one with growing desperation and hopes ebbing away.

_Hope. Kibō. Funny, that the physical representation of such a feeling had been just as fragile as the emotion itself._

“Iwaizumi! Hey, hold up! We’re here to help.” Matsukawa lays a hand on Iwaizumi’s shoulder to either comfort or encourage him, but it doesn’t seem to help as he shrugs it off, body language screaming how insecure and downcast he was. It strikes Hanamaki hard. That- That such a strong and hard-willed person was giving up so _easily_. So he punches him. He punches Iwaizumi **hard** , on the shoulder.

“Stop being such a wet blanket! I promised you we’d find him, didn’t I?! So think carefully! Would he have been awake when the Kaiju attacked? Would he have been aware, and where would he have gone if he ran? You’re his best friends, Iwaizumi! Only you know the answers and running around like a headless chicken won’t help you find them!” Iwaizumi looks up at him unblinking, until he draws in a deep breath and stressfully rubs at his brow.

“You’re right, you’re right. Sorry. I just- I panicked.” Hanamaki softens his expression and lays a hand gently over Iwaizumi’s shoulder, which is bound to bruise.

“We know. Think _carefully_ , Iwaizumi. Where was Oikawa likely to be?” Iwaizumi closes his eyes. His forehead creases and lips turn down in a solid frown as he thinks long and hard. It’s silent with before he gasps and his eyelids fly open, giving both Hanamaki and Matsukawa a slight jump-scare. 

“He- If he’d been watching volleyball videos, he would have used the gym key and gone to school!”

“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go.” Matsukawa’s quick steps in the direction of the school are completely overtaken by Iwaizumi, sprinting recklessly amongst the dangerous debris as if he’s had parkour lessons. He hasn’t, which is evident when he slips over not even a full minute later. Regardless, he picks himself up and carries on before Hanamaki and Matsukawa can even catch up. Turning to his best friend, Hanamaki completely deadpans;

“Forget the Kaiju, the biggest danger to Iwaizumi is _himself_.”


	3. Mako (Child of Truth)

The school – amazingly – is still standing even though it’s in shambles. A chrome tinted mechanical arm lies in the wreckage of the main building, torn off from Mirai in the battle. Iwaizumi doesn’t bother to stop and stare in awe like Hanamaki and Matsukawa do. He takes the fastest route to the gymnasium and throws open the doors. Part of the roof has collapsed in, and Iwaizumi hopes that Oikawa isn’t under there.

“Oikawa! Answer me, are you here?!”

“I-Iwa-chan?” The feeble and terrified response comes from the equipment cupboard. One of the doors has been torn off, but rubble blocks everything except a small space at the top. A heart-wrenching sob comes from inside.

“Iwa, I was so _scared_! Get me out of here, please! I- I’m hurt!” Iwaizumi pulls his pyjama top off, holding the ends of the sleeves and using it like a tool, slinging the material over rubble and pulling it towards himself, keeping the large weight against his chest as he walks backwards and drags them away. It’s scratching up his front, and his muscles are burning, but his best friend is trapped and scared and hurt and not even another _Kaiju_ would stop him at this point.

By the time Hanamaki enters the gymnasium – leaving Matsukawa to walk the length of the Jaeger arm outside – Iwaizumi has created a human sized hole between the rubble pile and the top of the doorframe. He’s sitting on top of an unstable block, ready to shimmy in.

“Iwaizumi, what-?”

“Makki!”

“Oi- Oikawa?!” He jogs over to the stack and holds the large block steady as Iwaizumi slides into the equipment room, leaving blood and torn skin on the rubble as his back is deeply scraped. Hanamaki can’t help but admire his strength and determination, even if he thinks it’s really stupid to get unnecessarily injured. He can hear Oikawa whimpering inside, and metal framework being moved around, followed by a sharp yelp.

“Okay, no, you can’t stand on that.”

“It- It’s just my knee, I can use something as a walking stick!”

“No. Sit down. Hanamaki, move a safe distance from the rubble.” He does as told, backing away curiously. There’s a thud followed by a grunt, and the block on top moves slightly, smaller stones crumbling at its base.

“Iwa-chan, stop! You’re going to get hurt!” Iwaizumi grunts and then body slams the obstruction again, taking a run-up and throwing himself at the top of it as hard he can. If he can just unbalance it, he can make it fall! It has to be big enough to get two people through, because Oikawa _can’t walk_. His bad knee is now even worse, crushed by the metal framework of the stacking shelves for sports equipment. Iwaizumi can tell it’s unlikely, just from looking at the mangled state of it, that he’ll ever walk again. Not unaided, at least.

“Grahg!” With one more leap at the rubble, slamming his whole body into it at full force, Iwaizumi manages to knock the largest piece of it away, opening a space big enough for him to carry Oikawa through. He hunches over and breathes harshly for a couple of seconds, before straightening up and wiping away the sweat beading on his brow. Frown still pinched with tension, he crouches down in front of Oikawa, hands behind him as a platform.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here.” Silently, Oikawa uses his good leg to push himself up just enough to fall forwards onto Iwaizumi’s back, looping his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck and feeling strong, sturdy hands come under his bottom to hold him in place. His bad leg hangs limply, and looking at it from this angle, he can tell it’s dislocated atop all the other damage. Oikawa nuzzles softly into Iwaizumi’s collarbone, reassuring him that _“Yes, I’m alive. I’m here and I’ll be okay.”_

He can still feel the racing of Iwaizumi’s heart beneath his fingertips, a result of both physically exerting himself and the panic that’s been rising since he woke up. The fact that Iwaizumi doesn’t respond to the concerned touch makes Oikawa worry a little bit more. He’s strong, but he’s not indestructible. Right now, he could be moving ever closer to a panic attack or a breakdown, and Oikawa can’t think of any way he can stop it. 

Honestly, he feels like crying himself, because everything is lost. He hasn’t seen the state of the landscape outside, but he heard screams silenced, the creaking of breaking metal, the roar of the Kaiju. He saw walls come crumbling down and thick smoke blocking the sky through the tiny window in the equipment cupboard. He felt the heat of the flames and the thunderous thuds of the ground _shattering_ beneath the Kaiju’s feet. At some points, he’d been terrified that the crust of the earth had been broken through. It had felt that intense, like it was enough to liquefy his bones.

“Oikawa...” Hanamaki comes to his side, relief written all over his face because he’s _safe_ , even if he is hurt. As Iwaizumi crouches down, Hanamaki helps Oikawa to sit on the gymnasium floor, in a relative clear patch where the floorboards have held together. Oikawa hisses as his knee jolts, but is quickly distracted when he hears Hanamaki make a sound of confusion. 

“Iwaizumi, where are you going?”

“I saw the banner in the equipment cupboard. We can use it as a stretcher.” 

“A stretcher? How are we going to make that?” Iwaizumi pauses, before looking at them with a sense of duty.

“Get Matsukawa, then find some metal poles. There’s bound to be two of similar length in this... Chaos.” He waves a hand in the direction of the fallen roof section, before once more vanishing into the equipment cupboard. Hanamaki frowns heavily.

“Makki...?”

“Hm? Yeah?”

“I’m worried about Iwa-chan...”

“Yeah... Yeah, me too. Wait here, I gotta go get Matsukawa.” Oikawa perks up, instantly coming to life a little more and sparkling.

“Mattsun’s alive too~?! This- This is amazing! All four of us made it!” The optimism makes Hanamaki’s frown wobble into a little smile. Oikawa’s right. Even though they lost everything... Even though nothing else remains, they still have each other. They’re still four best friends together and always. It suddenly hits him that if all four of them survived, there’s bound to be other survivors. He exhales shakily as Matsukawa walks in the door as if he knew he was needed.

“Do- Do you think anyone else on the team made it out?” Matsukawa and Oikawa look at him with unreadable expressions. He isn’t sure if he shouldn’t have said anything, or if they’re thinking the same thing. 

“Makki... It was a miracle that all four of us got out... I don’t know if we should hold out hope.”

“Hope? I got a piece of that~.” With a sly grin, attempting to defuse the tense situation, Matsukawa holds up a metal shard, one that has a recognisable chrome-green scuff of paint on it. Oikawa’s eyes comically widen to the point that Hanamaki thinks they could bulge out of his head.

“Did you steal that?!”

“There’s a broken arm lying over the school building. I’m presuming it’s free for all, so...” Matsukawa pulls out the pockets of his pyjamas and a multitude of gears and hinges and _Jaeger materials_ clatter onto the floor. Hanamaki’s jaw drops.

“... You’re a kleptomaniac, Matsukawa. My best friend is a fucking _Magpie_.”

“It’s not just because it’s shiny, it’s useful.” Oikawa lets out a small whine at being ignored, sticking his finger through the centre of one of the gears.

“Can we just get out of here now? I’m hungry, thirsty, and I need a wee!” Matsukawa sighs and pockets his goodies again, swiping the gear back from Oikawa with a light tap to his shoulder to reprimand him for trying to sneak it away. On the other hand, Hanamaki remembers Iwaizumi’s advice and jog over the large section of collapsed roof, searching for parts of the metal struts he knows would be in the ceiling. If he can find two similar sized poles that are long enough, they can craft Oikawa a stretched to get him out of here. 

He’s in luck. Water pipes in the ceiling have been completely dislodged, and he finds two that are in relatively good condition, as well as still strong. They’re both about as long as he is tall, which is slightly more than Oikawa. In other words, the pipes are perfect. As Hanamaki stand up with them in his arms, he notes that the room is still worryingly absent of Iwaizumi. Surely it doesn’t take _that_ long to retrieve the banner from the equipment room? Staying behind the rubble pile to keep out of sight of Matsukawa and Oikawa – who he’s sure will ask too many questions – Hanamaki slinks over to the equipment cupboard, peering through the hole Iwaizumi created by moving two rocks.

He freezes, frowning with a troubled expression. In the darkness of the room, illuminated only by the small, broken window and surrounded by dancing specks of dust, Iwaizumi sits hunched over on the floor with his head in his hands and a general appearance of defeat.

“H-Hey...” Green eyes lift to him, cheeks marred with tearstreaks and lips falling into an ‘o’ of surprise. Quickly, as if he hasn’t already been seen – Iwaizumi wipes his eyes on his sleeve. Hanamaki slides into the room. He leaves the pipes outside, not wanting to risk knocking something over in this mess.

“H-Hanamaki. What’re you doing here?” He settles besides Iwaizumi, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“Came to check up on you. What’s up, man?”

“I don’t- I don’t know... I just can’t stop...” A whine catches in Iwaizumi’s throat and he shudders, swallowing down a lump and blinking away a fresh set of tears. Hanamaki feels his heart sink with sympathy, tugging Iwaizumi in so that his head is buried in a warm, familiar collarbone.

“It’s okay... We’re okay. We’re alive, Oikawa is injured but safe, and we’re together. I know- I know it seems like the world has just ended, but... I think we’re going to make it.”

“How...?”

“Uh... Well... The JPDC will do something? I think?” Iwaizumi spits out a bitter laugh, pulling back to look at the ground with fury and hatred burning in his eyes.

“The _Defence Corps_? Look at our town, Hanamaki! Look at what _remains_ , if there’s anything at all! This is what the so-called ‘defence corps’ have done! They abandoned us until it was too late, they sent out Jaeger that were weak, and now there’s hundreds – maybe thousands! – dead or homeless or injured in some way!” All of a sudden, he slumps, like all that anger and bitterness has drained him of energy.

“The Defence Corps can’t do anything now. Japan has no Jaegers. We have no home. It’s _futile_ , Hanamaki. But the cruellest thing is that that damn Kaiju didn’t take us out with everyone else.”

“Hey! Stop that!” Hanamaki, with gritted teeth and aching chest, grabs Iwaizumi and pulls him face-to-face, smacking their foreheads together reminiscent of what Iwaizumi would do to Oikawa when he broke down. The main difference way, Oikawa broke down because of a _sport_. Iwaizumi was breaking down because he was scared for the future, because he had lost hope, because there was no chance of victory. If another Kaiju hit now, they were all dead. Hanamaki could only hold out that the rough treatment worked. 

“I-... I’m s-sorry...” Slowly, quietly, the bottled up panic and loss and hurt that Iwaizumi had allowed to build up overcame him, sending him into silent cries that shook his shoulders and barely made themselves known. When Hanamaki pulled him into a hug, he didn’t pull away.

Minutes passed. Eventually, Iwaizumi gently sits up, and he nods. He’s okay. Hanamaki releases a breath of relief he didn’t know he was holding, giving Iwaizumi a firm pat on the back. 

“Let’s get that banner and get out of here.”

“Mhm.” They get to their feet, finding difficulty standing up from sitting when the ground is uneven and broken and covered with smaller rubble that almost trips them over. It would be very easy to get a sprain here, and then they’d need two banners instead of one. The box with the banner in is well hidden. It’s skidded across the floor from where it must have fallen off the top shelf of the metal unit, lying face down in a corner and covered with concrete dusk that camouflages it against the floor. It’s only luck that Iwaizumi spots it, and even luckier that the banner inside remains clean and in one piece.

“ _Rule the court_ , huh...? Guess those days are over.”

“Well, considering there’s not much of a court left, I’m gonna have to agree.”

“There’s not much of anything left, Hanamaki. I have no idea what we’re going to do...” Hanamaki steps out the rock hole first, gathering the poles into his arms as Iwaizumi carefully steps down the pile on foot alone, since his arms are occupied with cradling the banner.

“Well, first; we’re going to get help for Oikawa. Then, I presume we’re going to move further inland. We’ll probably be placed in a refugee centre, and hopefully stay together.”

“Hopefully? I’ll punch anyone who tries to separate us.” Hanamaki gives a small laugh, walking besides Iwaizumi as they approach Oikawa and Matsukawa. The latter is seemingly tinkering with the pieces of Jaeger he salvaged, and Oikawa watches on with interest. It’s amazing, really. Matsukawa has an innate ability to turn junk into something useful, piecing together cogs and wires and levees in a way that creates something new. It’s an ability passed down from his father, a robotics engineer for a medical company, who taught his son everything he knew.

“Matsukawa, think you can help us make a stretcher for Oikawa?” He looks up with a small humm, sharp eyes drifting across the materials, and his eyebrows furrow.

“I’m going to need a needle and thread on top of that. But sure, if you can find those, I can make anything.” Iwaizumi places the banner down next to Oikawa, noticing how brown eyes trace it with a hint of sadness and loss. 

“Oikawa...?”

“We never got the chance, Iwa-chan. Shiratorizawa, Karasuno... And now Kaiju. Is there nothing we can do to ever win?”

“... I’m sorry...” Iwaizumi slowly looks down to Oikawa’s knee, which is red and swollen, definitely dislocated atop being mangled and broken.

“I’m sorry.” He repeats, in a harder tone. There’s no way Oikawa will ever play volleyball again. Those days, as he stated earlier, are over. They can’t pretend the end of life as they know it hasn’t just happened. They can’t act like it hasn’t changed anything. 

They can’t ignore the Kaiju infestation anymore. 

Iwaizumi’s hands ball into fists and he sits down, taking one of Oikawa’s in his own steadily. His best friend needs his support more than anything else right now, and Oikawa takes priority over a needle and thread. Matsukawa and Hanamaki exchange a wordless glance, both as worried as each other. Silently, they leave Iwaizumi and Oikawa in peace, heading towards the main school building. The most likely place to find needle and thread is in the nurse’s office, if it remains accessible. There’s no way to tell from outside if the Jaeger arm is crushing the office or blocking the entrance. 

“We need to be careful. I was walking on the arm earlier and some of the ceiling over there fell through.” Matsukawa waves his arm towards part of the building that overhangs the arm, cables dangling from the part where it’s been ripped through like paper. One of the long florescent lights is hanging from the very edge, swinging in the breeze as the whole structure moans. As they watch, the electricity cable holding it in place snaps, and the light falls to the Jaeger arm, shattering with a crack and splintering glass back up into the sky, catching the light and descending back down glowing with the rising sun.

“We need to move, quickly. The more that falls, the more danger there is to us.”

“Agreed.” They find the nearest doors are too crooked to open, the corners wedged into the ground, so they circle the building to find another entrance. Hanamaki finds it first, a single red-tinted door that opens to a stairwell. This is the boiler room entrance, and from their many pranks played in three years at school, Hanamaki and Matsukawa know this part of the school better than most.

“Ready?”

“Ready.” Walking down the stairs is easy enough, but budging open the boiler room door is a little harder. The Kaiju’s footsteps and the Jaeger arm falling on the building must have created earthquake-like conditions, things falling to create obstructions. It takes both of them pushing against the door to open it into a familiar hallway, a level lower than the first year classrooms. This is the floor where Hanamaki and Matsukawa did most of their planning, and one time, released as many stink bombs as possible, shutting down the school for a day.

“Looks like this part is structurally sound.”

“Phew. So from here, we go up two floors, along corridor B, and get the goods before coming back out this way?”

“That’s the plan, my man.”

“Then let’s go!” Hanamaki grins as he starts walking forwards, bare feet slapping against the tiled floor of the school with every step. It feels strange and weird to be barefoot in a place that was strict on wearing indoor shoes, but it’s bizarrely liberating, as much as it is sad. The lack of shoes on his feet only reminds Hanamaki he has lost everything, but he tries not to dwell on it.

He focuses on what he has left. He has his friends, he has his pyjama boxers, and he has himself. That’s good enough for now. Although – he shivers – he could really use some clothes.

“Hey, Mattsun? You think the nurse’s office will still have those god-awful itchy robes?”

“Probably? I mean, it wouldn’t exactly be a tragedy if _those_ were lost.”

“Normally, yeah. But I’m freezing! I need clothes, Mattsun! Only my butt is covered in cloth, the rest of me is covered with chicken nipples.” Matsukawa snorts and then guffaws.

“Chicken nipples?! Hanamaki, do you mean _Goosebumps_?” Turning red enough that the cold doesn’t affect him anymore, Hanamaki attempts to splutter his way through and excuse but only winds up with his face buried behind his hands and whining pitifully as Matsukawa laughs. Their merriment cuts off when something close by creaks and they’re reminded of how _dangerous_ it is in this building. 

Carefully, they navigate the hallways using visual cues from what remains standing. By some stroke of luck, the nurse’s office is half a corridor away from the split. From here, they can see the gaping hole where the other half of the hallway should be. Matsukawa enters first, stepping across a fallen medicine cabinet to get to the desk, which is somehow still standing despite being shaken away from the wall. He rummages through the drawers as Hanamaki grabs a sick-bag and starts to fill it with whatever medicine he can find. 

“Hey, grab another couple of empty bags.”

“Hm? Why?”

“Because I want more freebies from Kibō. Plus, there might be some items we can pick up from around town.”

“You really think anything survived the Kaiju attack?” Hanamaki snatches a couple more of the bags off the string they hang from, stuffing them into the pocket of the itchy medical gown-thing and tugging it on. It’s a bit better than walking around almost naked. 

“Possibly. We’ll only know if we go and check.” Matsukawa holds up a needle and thread at eye level, narrowing his eyes in concentration as he flawlessly puts the single strand through the eye of the needle.

“Right, I’ve got what we need. Let’s get back to Oikawa and Iwaizumi.” Hanamaki nods, following after Matsukawa this time. He’s quiet, until they get back to the boiler room.

“Mattsun?”

“Yeah?”

“What- What do you think about the JPDC?”

“I don’t- I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it.”

“Do you blame them?” He blurts out, catching the concerned and surprised look Matsukawa throws back at him, only the sharpest creases on his face showing in the dim light.

“Do you?”

“No... But... I think Iwaizumi does.” Hanamaki shuffles guiltily as Matsukawa makes a soft ‘Ahh’ sound, as if mulling over the information and accepting it straight away.

“That’s understandable.”

“H-Huh?”

“I mean, we’re in the middle of what looks like the apocalypse, Hanamaki. If the Defence Corps had done their job, it might not be this bad. Placing the blame on them – although I don’t agree with it – is fully understandable.”

“You think it’s a coping mechanism?” Matsukawa brings a hand up to his face, rubbing over his chin and mouth in deep thought, eyebrows furrowing the longer he thinks, the longer he debates with himself internally. When he does speak, his voice is a whisper.

“I think Iwaizumi is a child of truth. He’s right, if you want to be bitter and angry. I- I don’t _want_ to blame anyone; I don’t want to hate anyone, but... Iwaizumi is right. The Defence Corp’s weakness is what put us in this situation.” Hanamaki sighs, looking down at his feet, curling his toes in so they seem smaller.

“I think I understand... But I blame the Kaiju. I don’t think we should be creating tension between humans right now, no matter the occupation or affiliation. If the Kaiju hadn’t risen in the first place, none of this mess would have happened.”

“Good point. You, uh, you wanna go tell the big lizards that, or...?” The mental image of Hanamaki screaming up at a shameful Kaiju sends them both into matched giggles, the tension of the moment broken by Matsukawa’s words. Hanamaki wipes away a fake tear and nudges his shoulder against Matsukawa.

“Thanks, Mattsun~. I knew there was a reason you’re my best friend.”

“That and the fact I know all your secrets?”

“... Yeah, I’m keeping an eye on you forever.” Matsukawa lets out a sharp bark of laughter that he silences when something clangs. Their attention drifts over to a pipeline, which glows with heat. A pressure gauge attached nearby flickers to life through the cracked screen and moves further and further into the red zone.

“RUN!” Making a break for it, Hanamaki barely gets his heels out the door when Matsukawa slams it behind it and they throw their weight against it to keep it closed as something explodes with steam and heat and loud hisses. It takes the path of least resistance, heading up the stairs to the first floor as Matsukawa and Hanamaki breathe out in relief.

“We are so lucky.”

“Nah, we just have good timing.”

“It’s almost as if we’re being watched over.” Hanamaki snickers, pushing himself to his feet before offering Matsukawa a helping hand.

“So, let’s get Oikawa and Iwaizumi and get out of here. Because this material is starting to itch especially in the armpit region.”

“Pfft~. Alright, let’s go.”

It doesn’t take long for Matsukawa to stitch together a stretcher, and using the ‘burrowed’ cogs from Kibō; he fixes the material securely onto the two metal pipes. Now, they have a sufficient way of getting Oikawa out of here. Getting him onto the stretcher is another matter entirely.

“Ow, ow, ow! That hurts!” 

“Stop whining! I have to pick you up so they can slide the stretcher underneath!”

“Iwa-chan, your pudgy fingers are digging into my hip!”

“Sh-Shut up! They’re not pudgy!”

“Your fingers are short and stubby! Like you!” Iwaizumi growls a little under his breath, trying to think up a rebuke, when Hanamaki gives the all clear. He lowers Oikawa’s legs down carefully, trying not to aggravate the knee. Oikawa whimpers and cries at every jostle, until Iwaizumi holds him still, and he sucks in a breath.

“You okay?”

“Y-Yeah.” 

“Good.” Iwaizumi drops the rest of Oikawa onto the floor without elegance.

“Ow! Mean, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa pouts up at him, but he knows full well that Iwaizumi was only doing it playfully. If he was truly mean, he wouldn’t be Oikawa’s friend in the first place; nor would he have been so gentle and caring with Oikawa’s knee. As the two strongest, Iwaizumi and Hanamaki take the stretcher. Iwaizumi is at the foot end, leading the way, whilst Hanamaki carries the head end of the stretcher. They have to walk slowly, stepping through the landscape in tandem so that neither of them trips, and Oikawa remains lying flat. Matsukawa takes their slowness as an invitation to head back to the fallen arm with the sick-bags Hanamaki stocked up on.

“You guys go ahead. I’ll catch up with you in the residential area. Just need to grab a few things.” With that, he vanishes over a collapsed wall, leaving all three friends staring at where he once was.

“Makki? What’s Mattsun doing?”

“I don’t know, Oikawa. But he never does anything without a purpose. We’ll find out at some point.” 

“We’re wasting time. My mum is probably with the rescue efforts. We’ll wait for Matsukawa there.” Hanamaki nods with agreement, and they set off carefully, Oikawa silent as he looks around the destroyed landscape that he lies eyes on for the first time, and realising just how heavy the weight upon his three friends shoulders are.

He doesn’t know if he should ask how much they saw or not. 

He doesn’t know if he could stomach hearing.


	4. The Shatterdome.

Matsukawa catches up with them again as they stumble into an area marked safe by bright yellow hazard tape, bags of Jaeger parts in his arms as he grins victoriously. What he’s going to do with them, nobody knows, but Hanamaki can bet he’s going to build something _useful_. 

“M-Mum...” Iwaizumi breathes out in relief, leading the way over to where his mother is sitting on the side of an ambulance, blanket around her shoulders and aged weariness on her face. When she sees her son and the three boys that affectionately call her their aunt, she throws the blanket off and runs over to embrace them. When she gets to Oikawa, she almost bursts into tears, stroking a hand through his hair and assuring him that everything would be alright.

Oikawa isn’t so sure that’s true, so he only smiles for the sake of making his ‘Aunty’ feel at least a little helpful. Quietly and efficiently, the five are shuttled into vehicles heading to the same destination.

The Tokyo Shatterdome. 

Iwaizumi’s lip curls up in disgust, but there’s nothing he can do about it. They need to get to safety, and the Kaiju-proof protection of the Shatterdome is the only safe place anyone can think of. What’s even worse about their journey is that they’ve been split into two. In the ambulance, Oikawa lies on a proper stretcher with Matsukawa by his side, and holding the banner in his arms as he desperate clings to any sense of normality. 

Iwaizumi’s mother accompanies her son and Hanamaki in a Situation Response car. All three are squeezed into the backseat, which would be uncomfortable, if not for the fact that they drew consolation from being near each other, and the act Iwaizumi’s mother drops into a snooze soon enough. Hanamaki – as the most slender of the three – sits in the middle, and his eyes never leave the doors of the ambulance in front. His knuckles are white, and his hands wrapped around Iwaizumi’s own, attempting to stop the shake of Iwaizumi’s warm, calloused hands. 

“Hanamaki...”

“Yeah?”

“I-... I hate the JPDC. I hate how they failed us. I hate how _weak_ they were. So... So I’m going to join.” Hanamaki rockets up in his seat, eyes wide and voice pitching three octaves as he shrieks. 

“ _ **What**_!?” Iwaizumi is tense and stressed, the angles of his face jutting in harsh morning light, and dark bags beneath his eyes. His jaw is clenched, teeth grinding together before he summons his words.

“I’m going to join the defence corps. I won’t let them fail again. I won’t let a Kaiju take out another home like ours.” He gazes out the back window as if Aobajosai would reconstruct itself in front of their eyes, building back to its quaint neighbourhood and little cottages. Hanamaki can see the hurt lingering in his eyes, and shuffles around until he wraps an arm around Iwaizumi’s shoulders, pulling him in to rest against his shoulder. He presses his cheek against Iwaizumi’s head, attempting to make it seems more casual, like neither of them carries a huge weight on their backs.

“I’ll come with you.”

“H-Huh?”

“To the defence corps. I’ll come with you.”

“Hanamaki... You don’t have to...”

“I _want_ to. We were lucky enough to survive this together. So now, we’re going to stick together. And nothing you say can dissuade me!” Iwaizumi gives a gentle chuckle.

“Okay. Thank you, Hanamaki.”

“I just have one question.”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think they’re looking for kitchen staff, ‘cus I’d shit myself with anything else.” Iwaizumi pulls away with a look of puzzlement before his confusion melts into a grin that matches Hanamaki’s, and they both break into laughter. It’s almost unthought-of in these circumstances, but the two teenage boys laugh, clear with day, because at least they have their friends, at least they have each other, and the consolidating promise they have just created. 

“D’you think Mattsun and Oikawa will come too...?” 

“I’m pretty sure Oikawa was dead-set on it anyways, even... Even though his knee will prevent him being what he wants... I’m not sure about Matsukawa, but I’m sure we could lure him in with unlimited access to Jaeger tech.”

“What, like? Leave a trail of parts and hope he follows them like a pigeon follows crumbs?” Iwaizumi gives Hanamaki a flat look, his amusement only betrayed by the crease at the corners of his eyes.

“It’s Matsukawa. That’s _certified_ to work.” Feeling a little guilty for laughing at his best friend, Hanamaki covers his mouth with his hand as he snickers. For the rest of the journey, he doesn’t even notice that their fingers have someone intertwined, and they’ve gone from leaning against each other solely for comfort, to finding it casual and warm and _like home_. A small window opens between the driver compartment and the back seat, and a firm yet familiar voice floats though.

“Alright, we’re almost here. If you look out your windows, you can see the Shatterdome in the distance.” Iwaizumi and Hanamaki scramble to look out the window in curiosity. They’ve only ever seen the Shatterdome from aerial views on television, or sketches that show what the inside ‘might’ look like. The Shatterdome, to say it blatantly, is _huge_!

It has four bays that lead into the shallow waters of the pacific ocean, each one that could house 10 Jaegers, thanks to big plans that expected Jaeger production to roll out quicker, and the Mach 1’s to be indestructible. An offset beige colour, the basic walls of the Shatterdome towered above the city around it, topped off by a russet frame that had a polymer plastic roof, safer than glass. In emergency cases, a huge metal dome – hence the name Shatterdome – would encase the top part of the building. 

“Wow... It’s... Bigger than on TV.”

“Much bigger. Let’s hope it’s got room for us.” The car drives around to the back of the Shatterdome, to a ground entrance that is lit by yellow florescent lights and arrows that glow in the dark. It’s marked as the civilian entrance, and leads deep underground. As they head further and further into the earth’s crust, Iwaizumi still finds himself looking back to the ambulance with worry and concern. What use is a _Shatterdome_ to someone in need of urgent medical attention.

They get to a split in the road. The left side is illuminated by soft greens and beige walls. The right side is bright white with aquatic blue LED lights leading the way. The ambulance goes right. The car goes left. 

“Wa-wait! What? Where are we going?!” Hanamaki wrestles himself out of his seatbelt to turn around and look behind them, wiser than Iwaizumi’s idea of flinging himself around and ending up with the seatbelt chafing against his skin.

“Easy, kids. Your friends are going to the medical ward.”

“We have to follow them!”

“We’ll get ya registered in the residential area and then I’ll walk ya through. Gotta get registered first, otherwise you’ll come back and have nowhere to rest an’ recover.” It’s a logic that cannot be argued against, and Hanamaki slowly sinks back into his seat. Iwaizumi’s shoulders drop their tension, but he remains staring out the back window with a lost look. They only just found Oikawa... They can’t lose him again.

The lights in the tunnel start to increase in frequency, and the downwards slope ease into flat roads once more as the road itself narrows. The car drives down what looks like a main road until it comes to a roundabout with a parking bay, stopping to let the boys and Iwaizumi’s mother out near a large digital desk. The drivers swap over, and as the car pulls away, Iwaizumi and Hanamaki stare at their driver with dropped jaws.

Long blond hair with dark roots, swept back with a headband, sharp teeth in a confident but not cocky grin, and brown eyes they’ve seen a couple of times before. The driver raises two fingers to his forehead to salute towards them, delivering a wink.

“Yo~.”

“K-Karasuno’s coach!” The young adult laughs at the amazement in Hanamaki’s voice, reaching out to pat both boys on a shoulder each, with a strong and supportive grip. His eyes shadow over with a haunting seriousness, as if he can see exactly what they have, as if he knows how much they’ve suffered already.

“You’re gonna be okay. There are people here you can rely on.” Before Hanamaki can politely say thank you, Iwaizumi steps backwards, out of reach.

“We’ll believe that when we see it.” He’s bitter and angry and _sad_ , and it hurts Hanamaki to see him so distrustful. Ukai also seems shocked, but he blinks it off and nods his head.

“I understand. For now, let’s get you registered, and then I’ll show you to the hospital area.” He ushers them over to the technical desk, where Iwaizumi’s mother is already being led through the process by another member of staff. Ukai takes the teenagers over to a line labelled with their ages, and over to a man in the standard grey jumpsuit with glasses, a friendly smile, and black hair almost the exact same as Kunimi’s. 

“Makoto, these are two of the Aobajosai boys. Can you take them through the registration process? They’ve got a couple of friends in the hospital unit too.” The man, whom Iwaizumi recognises from the audience benches at Karasuno games, gives a thumbs up and a warm chuckle.

“Sure thing. I’ll whizz you through it as quick as possible!” He must be able to sense their impatience, or at least see how they fidget with unease. 

“Now, all you need to do is use this digital pen to fill in the forms on screen – just write on the screen, that’s it – and now press your thumb in this box here... In the Grouping section, put down the names of your friends, that’ll ensure you get rooms close together. Last thing to do is add a picture.” Shimada Makoto shows them over to a camera set up that looks like it was recently used, and they take headshot photos of both the boys. Much to Hanamaki’s distaste and Iwaizumi’s amusement, Hanamaki ends up with a picture of him mid-sneeze. 

“I’ll just upload them, print off your ID cards, aaaaand... Done!” Shimada holds out two thin metal plaque card with chains around them, a set of ridges carved into it. On the back is a plastic card with their photos, name, age, and another number on.

“The plaque cards will open your rooms, which is this number here. So, Iwaizumi, you’re in 107, Hanamaki, you’re in 108. Each room houses three people, so one of you may be with your friends, or they may be split between you. I can’t tell until we get them fingerprinted on the system, but they should be doing that on the ward.” Iwaizumi flexes his fingers anxiously at the thought of being separated from his friends, especially being on his own, but he’s _sure_ that wouldn’t happen. Right...?

“Hey...” He feels gentle fingers trail down his arm and looks up to meet Hanamaki’s worried but smiling expression, trying to reassure Iwaizumi whilst feeling the same things. Iwaizumi swallows down a lump in his throat. He thinks of the many sleepovers he’s had with his best friend, and his lips twitch up into a faint smirk.

“I hope you get Oikawa, because he’s just as loud in his sleep as during the day.” 

“Oh yeah? Well, I hope you get Matsukawa because he sleepwalks. Good luck trying to sleep when he’s literally pushing you out of bed.” Iwaizumi groans and wipes a hand over his face.

“As if I need another reason to lose precious sleep.” Neither of them really notices how they automatically find each other’s hands again, clinging on tightly. It seems natural to seek out the intimacy in this time of distress, and they share the sentiment that they calm each other the most. Once their light bickering comes to an end, Iwaizumi feels another hand on his shoulder.

“Hajime.” It’s his mother. Panic and concern immediately fills his empty chest at her tone of voice, like she’s about to break bad news. The wrinkles on her face have deepened as he looks at her, and she bites her bottom lip in hesitation.

“I can’t stay here, Hajime.”

“Wha-What? No! Of course you can! M-Mum, you can’t leave!”

“I love you, my son. But I need you to be strong right now.”

“No... No, no, no! You can’t- Where will you return to?!” She pauses, withdrawing her hands from his shoulders to wring through her hair with a guilty look.

“My- My mother has offered me a place back in Mai Sei.” 

“Granma? In Thailand?” His mother nods, taking a step back, as Iwaizumi’s face falls. He suddenly understands her soft tone and guilty hair-fiddling. She’s leaving him here. His grandmother’s place is small to the point that squashing just one more person in makes it a tight fit, so there’s definitely not room for them both to go. And if the invitation was only extended to his mother... There’s a pitch to his voice as he speaks again, small and insecure.

“You’re abandoning me...?”

“No, I just- It’s only temporary, _Mèn n̂xy_... Just until it is safe-”

“You’re going to a safe place and leaving me to potentially die without you. When I need you most? Do- Do you even love me, mother...?” She gasps, clutching her hands to her chest.

“Of course I do! That’s why I must leave! I have to make you a safe place to come home to!” Hanamaki feels the way Iwaizumi shudders next to him, walls he has constructed around his heart shattering one by one. In the same instance he pulls Iwaizumi close to him, Ukai recognises the signs of tension and distress and steps between mother and son.

“That’s enough. Ma’am, I suggest you at least stick around for the day. This isn’t a goodbye you can give in two minutes, or just lay it on him like that.” 

“F-Forget it... Let her go... If she wants to run, let her.” Iwaizumi’s voice is wet, but his eyes burn. He’s fire and ice at the same time, frozen by the prospect of his mother exercising selfishness in such drastic times, and enraptured by the flames of bitterness, burnt by the embers of being abandoned. He doesn’t look up from the ground, hot tears dripping to the cement floor and leaving dark marks. The lapse in attention on his mother gives her time to turn and flee, following directions on a piece of paper the staff member from earlier must have written out for her.

Anyone who has been watching averts their eyes with an air of awkwardness, pretending to be busy as things deescalate as quickly as they blew up. Iwaizumi is on the verge of crumpling in on himself, Hanamaki kneeling besides him and trying to get him to make eye contact.

“Iwaizumi... Iwaizumi, please... _Hajime_...”

“Don’t call me that!” He slaps away the hand that pressed against his cheek before realising that he’s just reacted on pure anger, and jolts his gaze up from the floor to meet Hanamaki. Both of them look equally surprised, freezing in place. Then, Hanamaki draws his slapped hand back and lunges forwards in a hug that knocks Iwaizumi onto his butt on the floor. He’s pulled into a bone-crushing hug, and it takes a couple of seconds for him to process things before he buries he buries his face in the crook of Hanamaki’s neck and hug back with desperation.

“I’m sorry; I’m so-sorry...”

“Shh... It’s okay, Iwaizumi. Take a deep breath, yeah?” He hears the intake of breath muffled against his clothing – the itchy gown from the nurse’s office – and pats Iwaizumi’s back as he steadies himself. Part of Hanamaki wishes Iwaizumi would let it all out here, but he knows that Iwaizumi has his pride and would never do as such.

“Would you like me to take you to your friends...?” Ukai is a saving grace amongst the chaos as he steps forwards, taking charge like a coach should, albeit awkwardly. It’s true that he’s never witnessed an abandonment at the registry desk, and it’s made even more awkward by the fact that he _knows_ two of the parties involved.

But he knows them as strong boys on a rival volleyball team, clever and talented and _indestructible_. He knows them as opponents, knows that Iwaizumi has a powerful serve and even more powerful spike. He knows that Hanamaki is an all-round player, but excels in quick thinking and receives. He doesn’t know them as vulnerable teenagers, thrown into chaos beneath the feet of a Kaiju, and torn away from family and friends. He doesn’t know them as people in the midst of war against hostile life forms. 

“Please. We’d appreciate that.” He nods at Hanamaki’s words as the duo stand, Iwaizumi wiping his pyjama sleeve over his face in a lame attempt to make it look like he wasn’t at breaking point. Not wanting to intrude on their moment, Ukai walks ahead of them, his sturdy shoulders paving the way through winding paths and the sides of roads, until they come to a long, dark passage that’s been decorated with glow-in-the-dark stars. Most of them are at waist height, obviously placed down by younger kids. Still, Iwaizumi’s eyes soften and a rare, gentle smile graces his face as he looks around.

“Oikawa would love this...”

“Yeah, he really would~. We’ll probably be bringing him back this way at some point.”

“Mhm. It’ll probably prompt him to spew annoying as shit alien conspiracies.” Iwaizumi’s voice trails off, because aliens aren’t just a joke anymore. They’re a threat. They’re not grey-skinned, big headed creatures with funny voices. They’re huge beasts that take out thousands in a single attack, and they never seem to _stop_.

Aliens aren’t so much of a fun thing now they actually exist.

“If it’s any comfort, our lead scientists don’t predict another attack for a month. By that time, the Mach 2 Jaegers should be completed, or so the rumour stands.”

“And if the Kaiju emerges before then?” Ukai stumbles over a step at the dark prospect.

“Then we pray that it doesn’t come to Japan.”


	5. Just a Memory

The hospital room is stark white and almost blinding. It’s almost maddening; with the walls that seem to close in on him and the slow beep of the machine next to him that he never thought he’d be thankful to hear. But he is. Because as long as it beeps steadily, his friend is alive. A sigh escapes him and black hair is swept backwards, tucked behind his ear as he watches the rise and fall of the hospital covers.

Rise...

... And fall.

Rise...

... And fall. 

Through the door to the small, white room, he can hear voices float through, even if they are muffled. Sometimes, it’s just background noise. Other times, there are words that stick out.

“... – that bitch-... – about it! ... Iwaizumi-...” He sits up with a bolt, dark eyes sweeping over to the door. 

Iwaizumi.

_Iwaizumi_. Could it really be...?

He pushes himself from the chair by the bed, letting go of his friend for the first time since he took his hand in his own, and sprints over to the door, throwing it open with a clamour. He looks left, no sign of anyone. He looks right, fringe whipping across his eyes- 

-and there they are. 

“SENPAI!” Hanamaki and Iwaizumi barely have time to turn around before a delicate weight barrels into them, shaking hands clinging to Hanamaki’s itchy gown, head buried in the fabric as small sobs start to escape. Hanamaki automatically wraps them in a gentle hug, not sure if this child has the wrong people, until he hears Iwaizumi gasp and move in to hug the child with him, strong arms pulling the three together.

“Kunimi!” 

“K- Kunimi?!” Hanamaki leans back a little to get a glimpse down at the formerly-labelled ‘child’, astonished to see that this is indeed Kunimi. He’s dirty and scraped up and he’s been crying, but it’s still him. His bottom lip quivers and he tentatively strokes a hand through Kunimi’s hair, letting Iwaizumi pull them in even closer. 

“You’re alive... You’re alive, you’re safe...” He notices Kunimi is wearing a standard eggshell blue hospital robe, and thick bandages are wrapped around his arm, dotted with blood. He looks up towards the room Kunimi barrelled out of, easily identifiable by the thrown open door. Slowly, he wriggles out the hug, passing Kunimi fully over to Iwaizumi as he hiccups and sobs and shakes, walking with hesitation over to the door. Looking in, his mouth opens into a ‘o’ shape, and his eyes widen with deep sadness.

Hooked up to multiple machines and out cold, he would recognise Kindaichi’s unique hairstyle anywhere. It’s a little flattened – whether that’s from sleeping or the Kaiju attack, Hanamaki doesn’t know – but it’s Kindaichi’s flamboyant spikes all the same. 

“Holy shit...” He steps into the room slowly, bare feet slapping against the cold tile, and over to Kindaichi’s side. He’s breathing, barely. The mask over his face fogs up with a tiny cloud and his chest falls and rises much too slow, but the machine beeps at an okay pace to let them know he is alive. He hears a sniffle from behind and turns to see Kunimi in the doorway, Iwaizumi behind him with a supportive hand on his lower back. 

“He- He’s in a coma...”

“A coma?” God, his heart sinks a little more as he looks back at the first year on the bed, appearing more frail than ever with that knowledge.

“I- I ran to his house when- when the fires started. He was already un-unconscious when I pulled him out the wr-wreck... They don’t know if his lungs will fail as of yet...” Iwaizumi draws in a sharp breath through clenched teeth and Hanamaki stops breathing for a second. His lungs could fail... He could _die_. 

They just found two of their friends – their _family_ , because dammit, that’s what they are – and now they could be losing one of them again. Quietly, they take a hand each and give it a firm squeeze. Even if Kindaichi is in a coma, hopefully, he can feel their presence and understands their silent request.

_“Please wake up.”_ Hanamaki drew away first, not wanting to take up Kunimi’s space. With a murmur of thanks, the first year slid back into the seat right next to the monitors. His eyes kept flicking to them in paranoia even as he kept watching Kindaichi, the slow rise and fall of his chest. It’s too slow, is his reoccurring thought, but there’s nothing he can do to stop that. His shoulders slump, and that’s when Iwaizumi draws away from Kindaichi too.

“Kunimi, we’re going to see Oikawa. Would you like to come with us?” He lifts his head up them and blinks in surprise, a little slow on the uptake. But that’s to be expected. It’s been a long couple of days packed full of trauma, and now he’s waiting for his best friend to either wake up or die.

“Oikawa-senpai... Is here too?”

“Mhm~. So is Mattsun. They should be a room further up the corridor, Oikawa fucked up his knee.”

“Wasn’t his fault, for once.”; Iwaizumi adds on with a gruff yet weary voice. He’s tired, Hanamaki can tell. Tired and worn down and brittle-

“Come with us, Kunimi~. At least come and say hi.” Kunimi’s lips slowly pull up into a shy smile, the tension ebbing from his body and some semblance of brightness coming back to his eyes. He looked like himself again.

“Okay...” Iwaizumi gives him a sturdy pat on the back; almost enough to knock him over, but Kunimi manages to keep his footing and falls into step besides him. Walking behind, Hanamaki notices the first year limps slightly, and spots more bandages poking out atop a sock. He frowns, but says nothing. If it hurt that badly, surely Kunimi would have said something? He’s not the type of person to pass up a piggy-back or any method of saving energy. Hanamaki is so focused on his thoughts; he walks into the back of Iwaizumi as they stop.

“Oop. Sorry.” Iwaizumi nods over his shoulder at Hanamaki with a small, nervous smile. The three boys are still stood in the corridor, waiting anxiously as Ukai hovers in the doorway of a nearby room, talking to nursing staff, most likely. He sighs heavily and then looks over at the trio.

“S’not a good prognosis, I’m afraid, but I think he needs you right now.” Ukai holds the door open as the nurse shuffles out, and Iwaizumi is the first one to step forwards. He hesitates, but as soon as he steps into view of the hospital bed, there’s a happy squeal.

“Iwa-chan~!”

“Hey, Oikawa.” And then he freezes. Oikawa is lying in the bed with a grin on his face as per usual, but there’s something missing.

His leg.

Iwaizumi can see where the covers _should_ be raised to show his limb underneath, but instead, it’s flat. Oikawa tilts his head in confusion at Iwaizumi’s pause, switching his gaze from where his leg _should_ be to Iwaizumi, multiple times. Sheepishly, he chuckles and reaches up to rub the back of his head.

“A-aha, I had the option of getting it removed, or, um... Dragging it around uselessly... Don’t you dare cry! Mattsun already cried so I sent him to get hot chocolate instead! If you cry, I’ll start crying, so d-don’t!” His warning is a little too late and hypocritical as Oikawa breaks into a wail first, followed by Iwaizumi’s hiccups and restrained sobs.

“O- Oikawa...! I’m sorry!” Oikawa picks up a flower from the side – a standard in all the rooms – and throws it weakly at Iwaizumi, although it’s pretty pointless, because the flower only flutters down to the bedsheet.

“Wh- What are _you_ apologising for, st-stupid! Dummy, Iwa-chan, dummy!”

“Shut up! Y-You’re the dumbass!” Oikawa’s face twists up as he lets out another loud wail, hands gripping the cover and digging his nails into his thighs through the thin material.

“I know! I _am_ a dumbass! I shouldn’t- I shouldn’t have been at the gym...!” Iwaizumi’s heart sinks a little bit. That’s right. Oikawa had been in the gymnasium. Oikawa was in the gymnasium at 2 in the morning, because Iwaizumi hadn’t dragged him home the night before. He could have blamed Oikawa’s tendency to get caught up in things. He could have blamed the clock in the gym that ticked past one second for every minute. Instead, he blames himself for not making sure Oikawa was at home, or dragged him for a sleepover. He’s sure, too, that Oikawa blames _himself_ for even being in the gym in the first place.

_But Iwaizumi is thankful, because if Oikawa had been at home, Oikawa would be dead._

His best friend could very easily have been burnt by the fires, reduced to a charred skeleton and little else. Maybe he would have hidden under the table – the only thing that stood in the residential wasteland – and still would have been scalded to the point where his skin melted and it was too painful to move.

At least this way, Oikawa still have a little manoeuvrability, even though it will be entirely dependent upon a wheelchair or walking stick, or just a friend to lean against. That thought in mind, Iwaizumi wipes his pyjama sleeve across his eyes and stifles another hiccup.

“I- I’m glad you’re alive.”

“Me t-too...” Oikawa blubbers a little longer past his statement, swallowing down lumps of emotion in his throat. His face is a mess, covered with snot and tears. Iwaizumi rolls his eyes lightly, with no real malice, and grabs a tissue from the side table. He wipes Oikawa’s face gently but firmly, even as Oikawa whines underneath like a petulant child with no time for cleaning up.

“Honestly, you’re such an ugly crier...”

“Mean...” Iwaizumi softly chuckles as he throws the dirty tissue aside and picks up another, seeing as Oikawa is an absolute mess. Oikawa just lets him. Once the second tissue is gone, and Oikawa’s face red from the pressure Iwaizumi used, he sniffles a final time and looks towards the door.

“Isn’t Makki with you...?”

“Uh, yeah, one sec. Hanamaki? Are you guys coming in?” Iwaizumi catches Oikawa’s confused head-tilt in his peripheral vision. Of course he’d be confused. To Oikawa, Matsukawa is off getting hot chocolate and Iwaizumi is in the room, so only Hanamaki must remain. He doesn’t know about Kunimi. For a second, Iwaizumi wonders if they should have told him before suddenly laying this information atop him.

In the end, it’s all worth it for the _HUGE_ grin and screech that emits from Oikawa as Kunimi apprehensively pads into the doorways. Kunimi has one arm across his body and averts his gaze, slightly hunched over as he rubs at his bandaged elbow, but the very slight tug of his lips betrays his excitement at being reunited with the team captain.

“ _ **Kunimi~!!!**_ ” He nods and makes a sound of affirmation, slowly walking over to Oikawa’s bedside. The second he shyly opens his arms, Oikawa throws his entire weight into an awkward hug that wouldn’t be possible if his leg were in the way. Kunimi holds him back just as tightly, his shoulders shaking at the overwhelming feeling of safety. 

He’s not alone. 

He’s not _alone_.

He had feared – upon seeing the destruction – being the only one to survive. He had pulled his best friend from flaming wreckage, and still felt alone because Kindaichi was in a _coma_ , but now he had arms wrapped around him and a repetitive _“I’m so glad you’re here.”_ whispered in his ear through a grin. He had lost a house, but he was here and here was home. Here, in the arms of his senpai, with another hand ruffling his hair and a third rubbing his back, Kunimi felt safe and loved and _home_. He could let his worries ease up, just a little. He felt like it was almost certain Kindaichi would wake up now, because here were the people he looked up to most, the people who had become family after only a few years. 

He stayed in their arms until he pulled away with barely a sniffle, unlike Oikawa who whined and tried to hold back on. He’d always been touchy-feely, something Kunimi wasn’t comfortable with before the Kaiju attack. But things had changed, and now, so was his stance on physical touch. He- He wanted it. He _craved_ it. He wanted that comfort, that reassurance, that friendliness. The touch that was solid on his shoulder, yet took a metaphorical weight off.

“I’m here, senpai.”

“Are you okay?”

“... M-Mhm. I will be. Are you?” His dull eyes flickered to Oikawa’s amputated leg and he bit his tongue at blurting out the question. With a sad smile, Oikawa lay a hand over the end of what remained. There was... Something unreadable about his expression. Like he had lost something but gained many others. As if he knew something new was to come, and would face it with undeterred strength and lack of fear. Oikawa was not a genius, but he was a warrior. A grand king that stopped at nothing, surging towards victory.

“I will be.” His voice was firm. Oikawa believed the statement more than anyone else, as he spoke it solidly with an unmentioned promise to become something _great_. Hearing him at that moment, Hanamaki was almost convinced Oikawa would suit up, jump in a Jaeger, and solo pilot it directly into the breach to destroy the Kaiju. It was impossible for him to actually do it, but the firmness of his voice alone promised unimaginable success. 

“How long ago did you send Matsukawa for hot chocolate?”

“Uh... Not too long before you came in. He should be coming back-.”

“Hey guys. Kunimi!”

“- Right about now.” It’s only by a stroke of luck and amazing volleyball reflexes that Hanamaki manages to catch the tray of hot drinks before it hits the ground or tilts the wrong way, Matsukawa dropping it on impulse to jog over to Kunimi’s side and pull him into a hug of his own. Exhaling in relief, Hanamaki passes the tray over to Iwaizumi, who places it on the bedside table in Oikawa’s reach.

“You got all four drinks? How did you know we were coming by?” With his cheek pressed smudged up against Kunimi’s, Matsukawa blinks blankly at them.

“I didn’t _know_. I hoped.”

“... Sap.” Matsukawa splutters and blushes, but he doesn’t argue back. It’s true; he’s always been a little sappy and soft. His heart is rounded and pure, so easily damaged and even more easily patched up. He hides his embarrassment by burying his face in Kunimi’s hair, uncaring that it smells like a mixture of smoke and hospital stench. Hanamaki laughs at his best friend before noticing Oikawa is looking around the room in confusion, almost trying to peer out the door.

“What’s the matter, hanger-san?”

“Geh! Don’t call me that! I was just... Wondering where Aunty is.” Iwaizumi stiffens in the seat by the bedside, narrowly slicing his thumb off with a small knife he’s taken to skinning an apple with. What it was just doing left on the side, he didn’t know, but he had intended to cut apple bunnies for Oikawa to eat whilst he was here, and maybe force some food onto Kunimi too. Hanamaki’s eyes, usually loving and playfully, turn ice cold and harsh.

“She doesn’t matter.” Oikawa tilts his head to the side in confusion, like a lost puppy.

“But where-?” He cuts himself off as Hanamaki shakes his head, eyes sliding over to Iwaizumi, who is peeling the apples at a much slower rate. Oikawa’s confusion only deepens, but he keeps quiet. He can understand the waves of stifling hurt and emotion rolling off Iwaizumi, and gently lays a hand atop his.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I- I’m sorry.” The atmosphere is getting awkward, tensing up. Hanamaki takes a shuddering breath before plastering on a wide grin.

“Iwaizumi, why don’t you tell Oikawa about the stars?”

“Stars?” Immediately, Oikawa perks up, and Iwaizumi pauses for a second before a small smile graces his face.

“Mhm. There’s a corridor between here and the bit we came from. It’s dark, but there are tons of those little glow stars you like.”

“I want to see it.” Iwaizumi chuckles at the awe-filled breath from Oikawa, passing over an apple bunny.

“You will, once you’re out of here. Kunimi and Kindaichi will come too.” Oikawa pauses mid-bite, blinking in confusion and Iwaizumi realises they haven’t actually told him or Matsukawa, who looks equally astonished, about Kindaichi yet. Sheepishly, he rubs the back of his head with a glance at Kunimi to ask if it’s okay. Kunimi gives a soft hum of affirmation.

“We- Kunimi caught us in the corridor... Kindaichi is- Kindaichi is in a coma that we don’t know if he’ll wake up from.”

“His lungs... Th-They’re damaged.” Oikawa’s head whips from Iwaizumi, to Hanamaki, and then to Kunimi as if needing confirmation from Kindaichi’s best friend. Slowly, sadly, Kunimi nodded.

“His house had burnt down... I thought I was pulling out a dead body...” The silence is deafening. They know this feeling. Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki know this same feeling, the fear they felt that Oikawa hadn’t made it, that they wouldn’t find him alive, that they were too late. Luckily for them, Oikawa had been hurt but conscious. Kindaichi was not. Kindaichi was in a hospital bed, relying on a machine to breathe, and hung in a limbo between waking up or not. Nobody got to make the choice. What happened, happened.

“Oh, Kunimi-chan...” Oikawa tugged on Kunimi’s wrist, offering a hug, but the first year was already in Matsukawa’s arms and quite happy to remain there. 

Suddenly, from out of nowhere, an alarm began blaring. Fast footsteps pounded past in the hallway, personnel rushing in the same direction. It couldn’t be another Kaiju.  
It _couldn’t_ be another Kaiju.

_Could it?_ Iwaizumi went pale and clammy, more so than Hanamaki or Matsukawa. They had seen the Kaiju briefly, in glimpses over their shoulders as they ran away, flashes of grey and blue and reptilian skin. Iwaizumi had seen a full Kaiju. Iwaizumi might have been one of the only civilians to witness the terrifying monstrosity of a Kaiju and survive. His hands balled into clammy, sweaty fists, his forehead breaking out into a cold sweat, and his bottom lip trembling as his eyes glazed over. 

It was more than just a memory. He was reliving the moment.

_Squinting through the cloud of steam and debris, his eyes widened in horror and he gasped with a mix of awe and fear. The Kaiju was- It was **huge**!!! It almost was like looking up at Godzilla, but far more intimidating than Iwaizumi could ever had imagined. It didn’t look like a dragon or a dinosaur at all. _

“Iwa-” Fuzzy cloudlike voices trying to break through, but he couldn’t pinpoint where from.

_It was beastly and reptilian up to the waist, possessing four arms with claws almost as long as its forearm, a gullet under the chin that looked made of stone and a large protrusion of the top of its head, like a vertical **sword** , but thicker and stronger. There was no jaw, Kaiju Blue dripping from where the lower jaw had obviously been ripped off by the Jaeger, but on the side of its head were scaled flaps that looked like fins, except rigid solid and veined with cyan. _

“Iwaizumi!” He was shaken. By the movement of the earth? But that’s funny, because his feet aren’t moving. Somehow, he knows what is going to happen next. He doesn’t know how. It’s like he’s seen this all before-

_Blades stuck out from its back, curving over the shoulders, which the Kaiju moved independently, stabbing into the centre of Mirai. The Jaeger groaned and shuddered as it collapsed, breaking apart as a shadow illuminated by Kaiju Blue. Mirai, their **future** , was gone, and the pilots defeated by a monster._

Seen this all before. That’s it. He’s seen this all before. 

“Iwa-chan!” He recognises the voice, but that’s impossible. He’s staring at a Kaiju, how can he hear Oikawa’s voice?

And how on earth has he seen this all before? A nightmare? A prophecy?

_“Hajime! Hurry, we have to leave!” He turned back to his mother with pale and shocked features and she choked back a sob because she knew her son – her 17 year old son, still a _child_ \- had seen things he never should have. Things that would linger in nightmares and burden him for the rest of his life. The house shook once more, anything loose shattering on the floorboards and the structure beginning to lean and crumble. _

“Iwa- Hajime!”

A mem- A memory? 

_“Hajime, please! It’s not safe!”_

“Hajime!!! Haji- Oh thank fuck, I think he’s coming back!” It took multiple blinks for Iwaizumi to adjust to the lighting changes from his memory to reality, and when he did, he became fully aware that five faces were looking at him in concern. Oikawa was stretching across the bed to hold one of Iwaizumi’s hands in a comforting manner. Matsukawa and Kunimi had metaphorically merged into one being, clinging to each other in anxiety at seeing Iwaizumi deteriorate so quickly, without warning. Ukai was in the doorway, face panicked and obviously having called for help and awaiting a response.

Most notably, Hanamaki was closest, practically pressing their foreheads together with a warm and steady hand on each of Iwaizumi’s cheeks, worry in his eyes and dark circles under his eyes. His face was sketched with stress, and as he saw Iwaizumi blink once more and focus, he sighed out in relief, his hands sliding down to Iwaizumi’s shoulders and head flopping into Iwaizumi’s collarbone as if he had run a marathon. His thumbs circle on Iwaizumi’s shoulders and he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

“Th- Thank goodness... Don’t do that again, Iwaizumi... You scared us s-so bad.” Iwaizumi draws in a breath and timidly moves his arms up to lazily loop around Hanamaki’s waist. He absent-mindedly notes that the blaring alarms – so much like a Kaiju warning – have disappeared.

“I’ll try not to. I’m sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Using chapter titles from the OST tracks is difficult.


	6. We need a new weapon.

They stayed that way for a few hours, the five of them sitting in the small room talking and resting against each other. They never questioned what the alarm was for, not even when they saw Ukai talking to someone in the doorway and promptly jog away. Whether it was fear or apathy, they didn’t know. It had long since gone quiet, and the children didn’t care. They had each other, they _needed_ each other. Then, a new siren sounded, but it was more like a soft chiming. Over the PA speaker came a soft voice Iwaizumi thought he recognised from somewhere, but he wasn’t sure where.

_“All residents to return to you rooms please. The curfew is in place. I repeat; all residents to return to your rooms. Please return to your rooms.”_

“Our rooms?” Oikawa’s enquiry was punctuated by a tilt of his head. With a sigh, Matsukawa pulled two keycards out of his pocket.

“I got these at reception. They’re assigned to us, so... Sorry, Oikawa, we’re stuck sharing a room.” Matsukawa passed the bronze keycard over to Oikawa, and Iwaizumi caught a glimpse of it. 108. And Matsukawa had mentioned sharing a room, so...

“Hey, I got 108 too!” Hanamaki proudly held out his keycard with a grin, before the silence turned awkward and he looked to Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi was in room 107, and therefore, Iwaizumi was not with any of them. He was separated from his friends – from his family – and that terrified him on the inside. He wasn’t going to let it show though.

“Looks like you three are my neighbours.”

“I- Iwa-chan...”

“Don’t worry; I’ll be sure to bang on the wall to lecture you.” Iwaizumi fakes a grin, but he isn’t sure it’s very convincing when the other three just give him sorrowful and pitying looks. He wants to shout at them. He wants to tell them to stop looking at him like that. He wants to scream that he’s not weak, not broken, just extremely tired. 

“Senpai...” Kunimi reaches into the hospital gown he’s wearing and pulls a light green card out of the pocket pouch. 107 is etched into the front, and the other three third years breathe out audibly in relief whilst Iwaizumi’s shoulders lose their tension.

“That’s great, Kunimi. Did you want me to walk there with you?” He nods, fringe lowered over his face as he drops his gaze to the ground. Iwaizumi understands, walking towards the door.

“We’ll say goodnight to Kindaichi first. As for _you_ , Oikawa. I expect you to behave yourself around the staff!” The setter laughs loudly and gives Iwaizumi a thumbs up as he exits the room, Kunimi on his heels. Matsukawa and Hanamaki will probably take a little longer to say goodnight to Oikawa, simply because they know – just like Kunimi – he doesn’t want to be left alone. When they get to the open door of Kindaichi’s ward, Kunimi falters.

“Not going in?”

“It’s just... I know that if I go back in, I’ll never want to leave...”

“Ah. I know the feeling.” He gently claps Kunimi on the back, supportive and strong. Truth be told, he’s glad someone else feels the same way as he does. It’s hard to leave Oikawa in there; alone and quiet. Because that’s when his darkest self-depreciating thoughts will surge forth from the back of his mind. He’ll start to blame himself and get survivor’s guilt. As much as Iwaizumi realises he already carries those burdens on his own shoulders, he doesn’t need Oikawa to bear weight of those thoughts too. He had enough on his plate with learning to mobilise again, with one leg missing-. 

Amputated. The leg was amputated. It wasn’t an accident; it wasn’t some kind of miracle where it painlessly disappeared. It was a life-saving operation, because Oikawa’s leg had been too mangled to remain. Their volleyball days were over, although that much had become clear since the Kaiju made land. Now, however, it was solidified. Oikawa could no longer set the ball for them, and no one else had the energy to spike it. Not only that, but Kindaichi was in a _coma_ , and the second years were still missing. 

Iwaizumi wanted them to be alive. He desperately wanted to bump into them and see them, to hug them and never let go, because it would truly be a miracle if they had _all_ survived the attack. He was pulled from his thoughts when Kunimi pulled away from his hand and walked over to the bedside. Quietly, he dropped his forehead to rest against Kindaichi’s, and whispered something Iwaizumi did not hear. With a final glance back at his best friend, Kunimi padded out the room with bare feet. 

The slap of soft skin against the floor reminded Iwaizumi of his current state of dress, in little more than pyjamas. He was covered in soot and ash, streaks of salt water etched into the dirt on his face, his feet coated with charcoal from running across the charred landscape, scratches and grazes showing through the dirt like red welts. Now that he wasn’t in a heightened state of panic, or lowered sense of being lost and helpless, Iwaizumi was starting to feel the burns and pain. He shifted his weight from foot to foot as he led Kunimi through the star-encased corridor, resulting in an awkward limp that shuffled back and forth. 

“Iwaizumi-Senpai...?” He grunted at Kunimi in response, unfortunately laying his foot flat on the ground and putting immense pressure on an embedded piece of shrapnel at the same time. He almost bit his tongue as his teeth grinding together, immediately lifting that foot off the ground. Kunimi’s face morphed into concern and a strong pitying frown.

“D-Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. I’ve noticed you limping the whole time. What did- What did you _do_?” Iwaizumi leant against a wall to look at the soles of his feet, grimacing at the thick layer of ash and soot that almost covered the sharp pebbles and splinters and shrapnel that had stuck into his flesh. 

“Ran across what used to be the residential area...” Usually, Iwaizumi is the one who swats at Oikawa, or in some cases, Hanamaki and Matsukawa, to berate them for doing something stupid. This time, however, he is on the receiving end as Kunimi slaps his shoulder. His lips are pursed in a pout and his eyebrows narrowed, and Iwaizumi knows the expression very well. It’s one that he feels on his own face most days, especially when someone is doing something _reckless_ , or potentially dangerous. Kunimi’s gentle hands takes the worst of Iwaizumi’s feet into his hold, examining it with a delicate touch and soft thumbs. He’s massaging the area around the foreign material, trying to ease it out without causing too much pain. Iwaizumi hisses at one particular flint of bent metal.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry. There was good reason.”

“A good reason to risk infection?”

“... I had to find Oikawa...” For a second, Kunimi pauses. Then he nods. He bends down to put Iwaizumi’s foot back on the floor and taps the ankle of his other one, insisting upon treating that too. Iwaizumi rolls his eyes but allows it. Best to listen to Kunimi now than get chewed out by his other friends later. When it comes to the subject of self-care, Matsukawa is surprisingly fired up.

“Iwaizumi, what have you done?!” Speak of the devil... Matsukawa comes over at a slow jog, almost barrelling directly into Kunimi.

“I thought you were going to stay with Oikawa longer.” Hanamaki appears behind him, hands inside his sleeves and probably shoved down his pyjama pants, the only thing he wears underneath the itchy robe.

“We were, but we got kicked out by a nurse. Turns out, they’re pretty strict on the curfew.”

“They’re strict on curfew, or you did something to get chucked out?” Hanamaki grins mischievously, but Iwaizumi knows better than to accept things at face value from Hanamaki, so he raises one eyebrow and watches Hanamaki shrug apologetically.

“Nah, they’re just strict.” He looks around the tunnel once more, taking in the glow-in-the-dark stars with awe and fascination, now that they weren’t rushing to find Oikawa. It was _breathtaking_. The dark tunnel was completely alight with the soft green glow, and the closer Hanamaki looked, the more he thought he could see other shapes mixed in too. A spaceship here, a planet with rings there, a... Random skateboard? Either way, the hallway was covered with glow in the dark stickers in such a serene way, that everything felt okay for a minute. He could almost pretend life was normal, and the Kaiju had never risen from the breach. 

At some point, he must have linked hands with Iwaizumi and Matsukawa, because they swung in time like a pendulum and he couldn’t help the soft smile on his face. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Kunimi holding onto Matsukawa’s sleeve too, which was pretty cute. He trailed after them somewhat like a kitten – not wanting to get too close and affectionate, but also not to be ignored or left behind. It was rare to see him so openly attached to someone that wasn’t Kindaichi, but Hanamaki sadly realised that Kunimi _couldn’t._ Kindaichi wasn’t here, so he couldn’t stick to his best friends side like glue, their close friendship accompanied by shy touches and encouraging slap on the back, comforting shoulders brushing, and cheeky pinches. Now that Kindaichi wasn’t around, Hanamaki could clearly see how touch-dependant Kunimi was.

“Does anyone know where we go from here...?” Blinking back into reality, Hanamaki saw the open space where he and Iwaizumi had gotten registered, and where they had last seen his mother. Glancing to his right, Hanamaki noticed Iwaizumi was unnaturally tense and fidgety. Obviously, he was remembering exactly what had happened. The last memories of his mother was her back disappearing into the crowd, abandoning her son to an unsafe place close enough to the coast for a Kaiju to attack, whilst she was deep inland in Thailand. It was cruel, it was heartbreaking, and it was enough that it deeply unsettled Iwaizumi.

And yet, Hanamaki couldn’t bring himself to hate her. She was still the woman they called ‘Auntie’, she was still carefree and kind, she was still present in some of their happiest memories. He was sure, too, that Iwaizumi was having the same dilemma. He _wanted_ to hate her for leaving, but he couldn’t because she was his mother. Hanamaki shook his head to clear those thoughts from his head, although it only looked to the others that he was answering the question Iwaizumi had asked.

“In that case, let’s find someone to direct us.” Matsukawa lets go of Hanamaki’s hand to walk around cautiously, looking for somebody – anybody – else in this establishment. It’s like they’ve all suddenly disappeared, when it had been so full of life earlier...

“D’you think this had something to do the alarm we heard?”

“Oh. _Oh._ That’s pretty smart thinking, Kunimi. I wouldn’t have connected the two events.”

“Now we just need to figure out _what_ the alarm was for, then we know where everyone went.”

“Uh, guys...?” Matsukawa had wondered over to a large side alley, big enough to drive a couple of land rovers side by side, the wall marked and painted with ‘authorised members only’ all around it and warning stripes. There’s a likely possibility that he could get in trouble just for poking his head through, but pure curiosity and stunned amazement prevent him from caring about getting caught.

“Guys, come look at this!” He’s joined by the other three, popping their heads around the corner like a totem pole with Kunimi at the bottom and Matsukawa at the top. The same expression dawns on Hanamaki and Iwaizumi’s faces, jaws dropping with immense, inspiring wonder. It’s no wonder everybody disappeared, asides from the obvious curfew!

They’re staring into a hanger, the place where up to 8 Jaeger can be stored, and the doors are open into the bay. Unimaginably large, a metal _giant_ is pulled in through the open door by trucks, ropes, and special equipment. It shines with black and white markings over unmarred metal sheets, ocean water dripping from its frame in waterfalls as cogs whir and massive mechanical clunks accompany the movement of parts clicking from one position into another. 

The Mach 1 Jaegers couldn’t do that. They could walk and fight like their pilots, but they could not adjust their own physical structure to become submergible. Everything about this Jaeger – from the newness to the unscathed appearance to the engineering additions – screams that it must be one of the Mach 2 Jaegers, fresh off the production line. Iwaizumi breathes out in astonishment. Did this thing _walk_ here? Could it really have crossed the Atlantic Ocean, been transported across the Americas, and then walked through the Pacific again?

If this Jaeger was capable of all that _and_ a better fight assistance than the Mach 1, then it was pretty much a mechanics nightmare and an engineer’s wet dream. Or, that of a kleptomaniac who had a strange addiction with making things. 

“I can die happy now. This is everything I’ve ever waited for. Hold me, Makki. Let me die in the arms of my best friend. Cremate my breathless body and _smear my ashes all over that titanium alloy-_ ”

“Matsukawa. Stop. You don’t even know what it’s capable of yet. It might be useless.”

“Wow, Iwaizumi. Way to extinguish the flame that fuels my will to live.” Hanamaki snorts and slaps the back of his hand against Matsukawa’s upper arm to warn him not to make jokes. Any laughter could draw attention their way, and they don’t want to get caught. Kunimi blinks, sighs, and then backs away slowly. 

Sure, it’s a giant robot. Big whoop. Whee. Great fun, until someone messes up and dies. Most likely bringing a whole neighbourhood with them and killing most people whilst putting others in a coma- 

He rubs at his eyes with the sleeve of the provided gown, unsure of why he’s crying. There’s a gentle hand rubbing his back, and he knows it’s Iwaizumi because the former vice-captain, albeit impressed by the Mach 2, is also dubious of the Jaeger abilities and unable to stop himself raining on Matsukawa’s parade. Henceforth, he removed himself from the situation where he forced to look at the image of desperation, and listen to Matsukawa thirsting over giant robots and toolkits.

“You okay?”

“I- I don’t know why I’m crying... I just- It’s so... _Outlandish_ to think that everything will be okay just because we have a new robo-exoskeleton. I meant, people still have to fight from within there. And people still fail.”

“Yeah... I get what you mean. But... If anything can give us hope, it’s that science and technology learn from previous mistakes. They adapt and evolve to minimise those errors, and hopefully, we have a new defender of Japan.”

“You think there’s just the one?”

“After the last Kaiju took out three Jaeger at once? No way. I reckon we’ll see another couple join this one in the next few days, if all the Mach 2 are ready.” Kunimi nods, wiping his sleeve over his eyes once more. He yawns through the material. With a chuckle, Iwaizumi pats his back.

“Yeah, me too. Let’s see if we can find these rooms anywhere.” Iwaizumi turns back to see Hanamaki and Matsukawa have _disappeared_ from sight. And that’s never a good thing. He mutters a curse under his breath and tugs Kunimi back over to the last spot they saw the two standing. Peeking around the corner, beyond the line that calls for authorised staff only, he sees Hanamaki and Matsukawa attempting to blend in with the back of the crowd, partially hidden from view by a sweeper van. 

There’s no way he can get their attention without drawing it to himself, so all he can do is hope – and wait – for them to come back before they get spotted and in trouble. Needless to say, the duo is expert at getting into sticky situations and bundles of trouble. Iwaizumi is so fixated on them, trying to telepathically beg them to come back, that he almost misses Kunimi just casually walking out to join them.

“K-Kunimi, what are you doing?!” The first year shrugs, his loose clothing sagging over his slender frame. 

“Nobody’s paying attention. Besides, we can just say we got lost.”

“We could get kicked out of the Shatterdome for this!”

“Ah, I don’t particularly care.” With that, Kunimi turns his back on him and pads over to the troublesome two. Iwaizumi sighs, pulling himself away from the wall and stiffly following his junior to the cart. It’s not the best hiding space, but from here, looking almost directly up at the Jaeger, he can see why everyone is so awestruck and breathless. It feels dizzying to stand before something so huge and magnificent, and lightness dances in his heart like life is flowing back into his body, like his soul is lifting and a spark of hope for the future that resides in his belly has been stoked into a roaring flame. This Jaeger is stronger, faster, better. With good pilots, it could be the saviour Japan needs to defeat the Kaiju.

“Hey! What’re you kids doing there!?” Iwaizumi stops breathing for a different reason. One adult in clothing that clearly marks him as a head mechanic is pointing right at them. Thankfully, he’s the only one that’s noticed them, and they aren’t close enough to the crowd for them to hear him over their own excited chatter and the noise of the Jaeger being transported into its own standing bay. Iwaizumi goes still, feeling cold sweat building on his forehead and panic surging in the back of his mind. Luckily, he’s with two people that tend to get into these situations frequently, and know _exactly_ how to get out of trouble as easily as they get into it.

“Good evening, we’re new recruits here. I’m looking into engineering and was advised to come here and ask for... Yamiji-sama?” Matsukawa’s fluid step out from behind the cleaning cart with a hand offered out to shake was convincing enough, and even more so when he added a respectful honorific onto the name sewn onto the jacket. Yamiji put his hands on his hips and ran his eyes over Matsukawa, trying to deduce if the _kid_ was lying or not, and he must have made his decision based on Matsukawa’s words and actions alone, because he took the hand to shake with a slight smile.

“Good to see fresh blood. What about you three?” Frozen still, Iwaizumi is almost knocked off his feet when Hanamaki slings an arm over his shoulders.

“We’re looking to be pilots. Thought we’d check out what we’re aiming for.” Yamiji looks up at the Jaeger, folding his arms with pride and puffing his chest out as a strange emotion dawns on his face. It’s a mixture of happiness with the new Jaeger, a touch of expectation for _something_ , and sadness painted with loss beneath it.

“Was hoping one of my kids would get it. One of ‘em made it into the Mach 1 bunch, but... You know what happened.”

“Yeah. I saw it.” Four sets of eyes whip round to Iwaizumi. Yamiji has understanding in his, as well as pity. Matsukawa and Hanamaki have jaws dropped and shocked expressions, considering he hasn’t told them. Even Kunimi looks astonished to hear it, eyebrows raised.

“You- You saw it?”

“Mhm. I was looking out my window when- When the Kaiju tore them apart.” The mechanic puts a hand on his shoulder supportively.

“I saw it through the screen. I thought my boy – one of the kids I coached – would make it back home. Turns out Mirai just weren’t good enough.”

“Mirai?” Matsukawa jolts upright, as if electrocuted on the spot, and tears into one of the bags on his hip, the bag Hanamaki had given him from the nurse’s office. Little bolts and nuts spill out the rip, and Matsukawa bends down to pick up the biggest piece. Iwaizumi recognises it. On Mirai’s arm, there had been a silver embellished owl, positioned in mid-flight with claws reaching outwards. The embellishment itself had been almost as tall as Matsukawa and Kindaichi standing on each other’s shoulders, but each feather had been crafted individually. In his hands, about the length from wrist to fingertip, Matsukawa held a single silver feather. Heat had scorched off part of the silver paint, singing it black, but other than that it was in perfect condition.

“I found it in our area. Well, uh, it was still attached when I found it, but... I thought it was pretty cool?” He holds it out as an offering, and Yamiji takes it with trembling hands. His eyes are watering up and he holds the feather close to his chest, hands squeezing it like a lifeline. It’s probably the last – or only – object he now has connecting him with one of the kids he coached.

“Th- Thank you. Bokuto would have loved it...” This time, it’s Iwaizumi who stands up straighter with realisation. He knows that name, vaguely. Paired with the knowledge that this ‘Bokuto’ was coached in something, most likely a sport, Iwaizumi makes a risky connection.

“Do- Do you mean Bokuto Koutarou?” 

“Yes! How did you know?”

“I- I didn’t. I just recognised the name. He was one of the top 5 spikers in pre-college Japan, right?” Yamiji nods, a weary but placid expression tugging at his lips.

“Yes. I’m surprised you’ve heard of him though. Usually only volleyball enthusiasts have.” Iwaizumi laughs gently, softly.

“We kind of are. We’re from Aobajosai, a team in Miyagi.” Hanamaki sighs and rolls his eyes, though it’s all in good jest.

“Trust you to bring us to volleyball talk, Iwaizumi!”

“Well, Oikawa-senpai isn’t here. Someone had to do it in his absence.” Laughing freely, Hanamaki high-fives Kunimi, who wears a smug smirk. He might look innocent, but he’s as devious as the rest of them, if not more. Yamiji looks over the small group.

“So... You’re here for engineering – which I’d be happy to teach you in return for the feather. You two are here to be pilots; and you... What are you here for, kid?” He holds a palm out towards Kunimi in waiting for an answer, oil splatters across his calloused palms. Kunimi grins with a fake sweetness, the corners of his eyes crinkled and hands folded innocently behind his back.

“I’m here to watch these three fuck up~.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry?


	7. Jaeger Tech

Yamiji leads them towards the dorm corridors, although they have to physically drag Matsukawa out the Jaeger hub, and Iwaizumi is pleased to see that the room numbers are actually organised so that odd numbers are on the left, and even numbers on the right. Room 107, where he and Kunimi are staying, is directly opposite 108. All they have to do is leave their doors open and there’s only the width of the corridor between them. It’s not very far, either. If Iwaizumi lay down and stretched, his could probably have the tips of his toes and the tips of his fingertips touching their doorsteps. The only problem would be getting their roommates to agree to it, but considering that the door to room 108 is already wide open, it doesn’t look like Matsukawa, Hanamaki and Oikawa will have too much trouble convincing the person.

“Kuroo! Come out here and say hello. You have roommates now.” There’s a groggy sound from inside and then someone drags themselves into view. His hair is messy and greasy, his nose is running, and his eyes are ringed red and swollen. Kuroo is a mess, and has obviously been crying. Yamiji sighs sadly.

“I know this is... Slightly earlier than expected, but these two are staying with you now.” He gestures to Hanamaki and Matsukawa, who awkwardly hold up a hand each in greeting. Kuroo sniffles and rubs his eyes with his sleeve pulled over his palm before putting on a small, forced smile.

“Sure. I’m just- just clearing up Bo’s stuff. Sorry, he tends to - _tended_ , god shitting damn it, past tense, past tense – to leave stuff everywhere. You, uh, you wanna come in?” Hanamaki and Matsukawa exchange matching looks of doubt and confusion. There’s a curfew they know they have to obey, but if ‘Bo’ is Bokuto, then Kuroo only lost his roommate a matter of hours ago. The scars are open and real and he won’t be healing anytime soon. Silently, though slight facial movements alone, the two converse about if there’s anywhere else they could go, or if it would be safer to stick around and keep an eye on Kuroo, just in case. They don’t know him at all, but they saw how distressed Iwaizumi was when he only _worried_ Oikawa might not have made it. This is a whole step up from that.

“Yeah, we’d appreciate that, thanks. Sorry for the intrusion.”

“No problem.” Kuroo rasps and steps aside for them to enter, eyes lingering on the closed door to 107. He lowers his voice to a whisper, tense and hoarse with a haunting tone.

“Akaashi isn’t ready for anything yet. Kenma is trying to help him, but... I don’t think you should bother them.” Iwaizumi nibbles on his bottom lip.

“That’s okay; we can go back to the hospital area, if they let us?” He looks at Yamiji in clueless and hopeful question, joined by Kunimi. Most likely, he wants to stay with Kindaichi as much as possible in case anything happens. The volleyball coach sighs and crosses his arms wearily.

“I suppose I could give you passes, but I’d rather you just-.” The door to 107 clunks and opens slowly. Squeezing through a small gap, a short cat-like boy steps into the corridor, pulling the door to behind him. He fidgets under the gaze of so many people and hangs his head low as he speaks directly to Kuroo.

“Akaashi fell asleep... But it’s noisy out here... So I can’t...” Kuroo opens his arms without a word and the new boy – presumably Kenma, if Akaashi is asleep inside – steps into them and rests his forehead against Kuroo’s shoulder.

“Sorry, Kitten. We were talking about the new arrivals...” Muffled into Kuroo’s collarbone, Kenma replies.

“They can come in. If they’re quiet.” Kuroo looks over to Iwaizumi and Kunimi with an exhausted, begging stare. The two of them nod silently in unison. Truly, they lucked out with this arrangement, because had it been reversed, Iwaizumi isn’t so sure that Hanamaki and Matsukawa would stop whispering to each other. It was a known fact that they would converse into the late hours of the night. Although, that was less likely today, since they had been exposed to a Kaiju attack at 2am and slept through part of the day before carrying out a rescue mission of their own. All of them should sleep well tonight, that’s a fact. 

“They’ll be quiet. Don’t worry, kitten, I can tell they’re good people.” Kuroo smiles very slightly as he runs a hand through Kenma’s two-tone hair, holding him close as if letting him go will see him vanish forever – like Bokuto had. His breath shudders and he suddenly pulls Kenma close, tears dripping down onto his shoulder as the shorter hugs back in the same desperation. Iwaizumi shifts from foot to foot, a little bit because his feet still hurt, but also because he knows he’d be a similar level of _distraught_ if it had been one of his best friends dead. At the same time, he knows he should be mourning his mother, since she had abandoned him, but he felt... Nothing. Not sadness, not shock, not relief that she was safe... Just an absence of feeling and a slight twinge of disappointment. So caught up in his thoughts, Iwaizumi jumped when a flat hand landed on his back.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but would it be okay for us to go in...? His feet are injured.” Kenma pulls away from Kuroo, and his golden eyes flicker down to Iwaizumi’s feet, taking in the state of his pyjama bottoms and the charcoal stained skin with red scratches and droplets of partially dried blood dotted over. He winces, because that’s not even the parts a person walks on, and there’s a huge risk of infection from dirt being constantly pressed into open cuts.

“We have a shower inside... And standard uniforms in the drawers... I’ll let you in on the condition you use them.” Kenma’s voice loses a little bit of tension, thought he still doesn’t make eye contact, and Kunimi understands. Whilst _he_ may be simply asocial and lazy, Kenma is anxious and wary. He won’t warm up to them quickly, but this small display shows promise.

“Thank you. Those are quite favourable terms.” The twitch of Kenma’s lips let Kunimi know that he said the right thing, and the exchange is so _refreshing_ because Kenma is quiet like himself, and doesn’t push for more interaction that he’s capable of. Unlike _some_ people. His thinned eyes slide to Hanamaki who’s leaning in the doorway, blinking in confusion at the passive glare directed towards him. Kenma steps the short distance across the hallway and pushes the door open fully, nodding towards Kunimi and Iwaizumi to let them know it’s okay to enter. Kunimi steps forwards, hesitating when he realises Iwaizumi hasn’t moved or spoken for a while.

“Senpai...? ...Oh my gosh...” He pokes at Iwaizumi’s shoulder to check something, and the way he starts falling backwards pretty much confirms his hypothesis. 

Iwaizumi has fallen asleep standing up.

Kunimi lunges forwards and has to slide his arms under Iwaizumi’s to pull him back upright, stopping him from completely falling backwards. Instantly, as soon as Iwaizumi started falling, Hanamaki leapt forth. He nudges Kunimi aside and sweeps Iwaizumi into his arms with lightning fast reactions. His muscle mass makes him heavy, but thanks to Hanamaki’s competitive spirit, he’s _almost_ as strong as Iwaizumi, and can therefore easily lift him. Cradled in his arms, the usually proud and stern vice-captain looks as vulnerable as when he pulled them into the alleyway, when they were held by his mother, and Hanamaki is sure Iwaizumi saw something he should not have.

There are huge, blue-black bags under his eyes, and creases of fatigue in the corners, his skin still marked with ash and smelling of smoke, making him appear _older_ and just tired... Hanamaki frowns a little, shifting Iwaizumi in his arms. Truthfully, they’re all exhausted, but nowhere near enough to conk out standing up. It makes him wonder if Iwaizumi slept _at all_ in that small alleyway.

“Bring him in... I’ll show you which beds are available...” Kenma holds the door open for Hanamaki to step through, carefully shifting Iwaizumi so that his head or feet don’t hit the doorframe. One of the beds is occupied, the duvet pulled up to cover everything but a scruff of black hair. Another is empty, but the duvet is rolled back and the sheets crinkled to show that someone lives there. The top two bunks are absent of life, and Kenma nods towards the one above his bed.

“He can go there...”

“Thanks.” With his long limbs, Hanamaki only has to step on the first rung of the ladder to lay Iwaizumi down in the bed. He pulls the duvet up to his shoulders, and tucks him in, a hand lingering over Iwaizumi’s side. He... He doesn’t want to leave. It feels almost like as soon as the door is closed, Iwaizumi and Kunimi will be in a whole other world and it’ll feel like they were _never there_. Hanamaki doesn’t want that, so he lingers. Kenma must catch onto it, because he steps back outside and then fixes the latch to the wall that keeps the door wide open. Matsukawa thanks him quietly from the doorway of 108.

“You should get some sleep... They ask you to sign up for something on the second day...”

“Yeah, thanks. Nice to meet you.” Hanamaki holds out a hand to shake, but Kenma only shyly shakes his head, hiding behind his bangs and fringe, so Hanamaki smiles and gives him a thumbs up instead. He exits the room, hops across the hall, and into the one that is now his own. Matsukawa grins and slings an arms around his shoulders.

“How ‘bout we get some rest too, lovebird?” Hanamaki blushes and shoves Matsukawa’s arm off him, stuttering and spluttering.

“L-L-Lovebird?!”

“Yeah, I saw the way you looked at him~. You have a crush on I-wai-zu-mi~.” Hanamaki deadpan stares at a blank spot on the ceiling and his tone becomes slightly teasing, yet also factoid.

“And you don’t?”

“I- well- uhh...”

“Oh my god, you _do_.” Matsukawa whines as he drops his forehead against Hanamaki’s back, nudging into it.

“Of course I do. And so do you. And Oikawa’s crush is so obvious; a blind person could see it.” 

“Mhm. So, what do we do about this?” Matsukawa shrugs, his arms worming around Hanamaki’s waist from behind and pulling him back to be a pillow.

“Same thing we always do. Ignore it and keep things the same as they always have been.” There’s a slight snicker from the side, and two pairs of brown eyes snap round to Kuroo. He still looks weary and upset – which is understandable because he’s grieving – but there’s a smirk on his face and is eyes glitter with a hint of mischief. 

“That’s what Kenma and I were gonna do. Turns out you can’t keep things that way. You gotta confess.” Hanamaki blinks and holds up a hand to gesture towards himself, Matsukawa, and in the general direction of the hospital.

“Yeah, problem. There’s three of us. If we _all_ confessed, he’d choose one, and it would make things awkward with the other two.” With a snort, Kuroo buries his face in his palms. He looks back up at them with a grin.

“Doesn’t have to be a choice. If you all love him and he loves you back, might as well just date each other.” Matsukawa can feel heat spill into his cheeks, as well as flooding from Hanamaki’s cheek, pressed against his. The truth is that he’s thought about things _like_ this. He’s thought about dating Oikawa, he’s thought about dating Iwaizumi, and he’s thought about dating Hanamaki.

But never all at the same time. Every time he’s imagined it, no matter which combinations, it’s always be 2 and 2. Now, Kuroo has opened his eyes to a whole new world. It doesn’t _have_ to be 2 and 2. It can be four. He hears Hanamaki squeak next to him; skin flushed so he looks like a strawberry and warm enough to stoke a fire. Slyly, Matsukawa slides his hands up, so that instead of loosely looped around Hanamaki’s waist; they’re tightly wound around his chest. Iwaizumi might be the easiest to fluster in their group, but Hanamaki isn’t too far behind. He leans in until his lips press against the shell of Hanamaki’s ear, and there’s nowhere for Hanamaki to escape as Matsukawa hotly whispers.

“So? What do you say we kick-start this off with the two of us~?” Hanamaki squeaks, which is followed by the dying whine of gas escaping a balloon and he tries to drop to his knees in embarrassment as he hides his face behind his hands. Considering Matsukawa is tightly clinging on, they both go down like a rock and Matsukawa is actually thrown over Hanamaki’s shoulders as he curls into a little bashful ball of melted human. Matsukawa bursts into laughter, and he can hear Kuroo’s quieter chuckles too. He might be sad and mourning the loss of his best friend, but seeing these two messing around with each other so casually and playfully breathes a little bit of life back into him.

They’re good people, and he can tell they’re going to be great friends. For now though, he needs space, time to recover, and a steady introduction back into Shatterdome life. He glances over at the two; noting that Hanamaki has recovered enough to smack at Matsukawa gently.

“Idiot, Mattsun, you’re so embarrassing!”

“But you love me~.”

“How dare you...”

“But you loooove me~.” Hanamaki huffs, but then the he pinches one of Matsukawa’s cheeks and leans in to kiss it afterwards, eyes squeezed shut.

“You’re lucky I do.” This time, it’s Matsukawa’s turn to blush and his hand darts up to cover his cheek, thick eyebrows practically joining his hairline. Kuroo covers his mouth to muffle a snicker and then clears his throat.

“So... What’re you guys thinking of doing, in terms of jobs?”

“Engineer.” Matsukawa doesn’t miss a beat and answers so quickly that Kuroo blinks to process it before smiling.

“Boy, are you gonna have a fun time when the Mach 2 come in. I’ve heard rumour of all _sorts_ of new things. Submersible, quicker reaction times, fibre optic cables mapped out like a neural network, a fully protected nuclear chamber-”

“Woah, Woah, whoa! Hold on a sec! _**Nuclear** chamber_?”

“Yeah. What did you think they ran on? Petrol and fairy dust?” Hanamaki snorts, but Matsukawa doesn’t pause to consider the joke. His face falls into concern, sad and unsettled.

“That could mean radiation poisoning for the pilots...” He glances worriedly at Hanamaki, who instantly seals his lips and starts to pale. He and Iwaizumi have already decided to become pilots. But knowing that the core of the Jaeger is a giant ball of radiation? It’s slightly off-putting. He’s suddenly questioning if there is a way to apply for kitchen staff roles.

“Oi, weren’t you listening? I said a _fully protected_ nuclear chamber. The Mach 1 pilots had to worry, but... There’s not many of them left worldwide anyways...” His voice trails off and finishes with a sniffle, hunching in on himself. Compassionately, Hanamaki pushes himself from the floor and sits next to Kuroo, rubbing his back in circles. Kuroo takes a moment to compose himself and then sits up straighter again.

“Th- Thanks. Bo is- he _was_ my best friend, you know?” Neither of them really know what to say, until Matsukawa exhales slowly.

“You’re wrong. I mean, not entirely. He _was_ your best friend, but even if he’s gone, he still _is_ your best friend. You don’t need to change that to past tense.” Kuroo looks up at Matsukawa with a little bit of shock and awe mixed, before he beams brightly.

“Thanks, engineer. You’re not too bad.”

“Hey, what about lil’ old me?” 

“You’re the worst.” Hanamaki stares at Matsukawa with jaw dropped as Kuroo bursts into laughter at how rapidly he fired back, and Matsukawa wriggles his eyebrows.

“That’s rude, _Issei_.”

“You’re dating me now, _’Hiro_ ~.” Hanamaki groans and leans against Kuroo to seek pity. He’s rewarded with a very sarcastic pat on the head and Kuroo’s shoulders shaking as he holds back laughter again.

These guys... They’re not bad. Since the news came to him about Bokuto’s demise, everything felt too slow, too quiet, too _dead_ , but these newcomers bring fast-paced fun and brightness with them. The bring colour back in to Kuroo’s dull little world, and the world starts to spin again. He feels like he can breathe a little easier.

“So, what about you? Engineer? Kwoon trainer?”

“Uh... Pilot? I think? I kind of doubt it now, but I want to stick with Iwaizumi in case anything happens. He hasn’t exactly... Been adapting very well.”

“Makes sense. I’ll be a pilot too. Well, hopefully. Apparently I’m not drift compatible with anyone yet, so.” Hanamaki makes a sound of understanding.

Drift compatibility is the major part of being a Jaeger pilot. Two people sync their minds together with a giant machine, able to catch glimpses of each other’s thoughts or pulse across images and strategies. Originally, it had been thought of as melding two minds together so that two became one, but efforts to do that had apparently failed. Now, it was a case of _reading_ each other, instead of being each other. 

Technically, any two people could drift. But only people with drift compatibility could hold it for the standard three hours at a level that was satisfactory to fight a Kaiju together. The better compatibility, the better they fought. Their reactions times were quicker, they read each other better, and the Jaeger responded to the boost of energy from a close drift. In most cases, siblings or parents made the best Jaeger pilots because of the shared memories. Strangely, those who were romantically involved were the worst to stick together.

“Does Kenma have a partner?”

“Yeah, he and Fukunaga are in the first line-up for the Mach 2 Jaegers. It’s strange, to think we used to play volleyball, and now we train to save the world.” The conversation screeches to a halt. Maybe they should have realised it from Kuroo being Bokuto’s best friend, but in no way had they considered that _he_ would play volleyball too.

“What position did you play?”

“Middle blocker. Why...?”

“Hey, same as Mattsun! I was a wing spiker!”

“Ohoho?” Kuroo lent forwards, chin resting on his knuckles.

“Yeah, we played for Aobajosai.” Throwing his head back, Kuroo barks a sharp laugh.

“So _you’re_ the guys that stopped Karasuno first time round!” The conversation turns to volleyball, even as Kuroo shows the two where to get bedding from, and which beds they can occupy. Out of respect, they leave Bokuto’s former bed well alone, even though Oikawa will have to live there once he’s released from hospital. Hanamaki starts to fall asleep pretty much as soon as he lies down, but Kuroo and Matsukawa continue to whisper long into the night, getting to know each other as Matsukawa tinkers with salvaged pieces of Mirai, and Kuroo delicately twists a cog Matsukawa gave him around his finger. It connects him to Bokuto’s last moments and his heart, something he’ll treasure even more than the left-behind clothing and possessions.

Some of those clothes, he passes to Matsukawa and folds to put on the end of Hanamaki’s bed. It’s something Bokuto would have done. Kind-hearted and friendly, he would give anyone the world to settle them in and comfort them. Bokuto would have loved these two, Kuroo thinks. He would have loved their cheeky mischief, their life and laughs, their easy-going natures... Kuroo’s best friend would have immediately added Matsukawa and Hanamaki to their friend group, so Kuroo does it in his absence.

Every now and then, Kenma will come across the hallway to sit with Kuroo for a bit, before returning to Akaashi as he whines in his sleep, plagued by nightmares because Bokuto is _gone_ , and he was also a best friend. Bokuto had many best friends, just as he was a best friend to everyone. In his own words, _“Why choose when I can love all of ya? Best friends doesn’t mean better than the rest! It means we have a close connection! And I have a connection with **all** of ya, so you’re all my best friends!” _ A tear drops from Kuroo’s eye, trailing down his cheek until it hangs off his chin, and he wipes it away slowly.

“You okay...?”

“Yeah, I- umm... No, actually. It’s... It’s just setting in that- That Bo isn’t coming home...” Matsukawa gently moves to kneel in front of Kuroo, placing reassuring hands on his legs.

“He’s always home as long as you remember him.” The careful wall Kuroo has constructed to hold himself together shatters, and he hunches over crying until weariness steals him away and he falls asleep on Matsukawa’s shoulder. Slowly and gently, Matsukawa eases him into lying down and tuck him in, fetching a glass of water for when Kuroo wakes up dehydrated.

Then, the engineer hopeful returns to his salvaged pieces, tinkering away long into the night, when day becomes dusk and dusk becomes dawn.


End file.
